Tengoku ni Ochiru
by Gosangoku
Summary: It's hypocritical. It's wrong. But it's so damn addictive. Arthur Kirkland's a therapist with a dark past, and Alfred F. Jones is a young man with high aspirations and big problems. Can they help each other? — US/UK. More pairings inside!
1. Dame desu!

"This is _not_ my day," thought an irate Englishman out loud as he jogged down the street. Storms clouds were overhead, thunder crashing and lightning flashing sporadically, and rain pouring down harshly. "The bloody weather man said it'd be sunny today. Why did I believe the wanker?" he muttered to himself. "It always rains in England. I should've known."

Arthur Kirkland had decided to walk to work that morning, due to the weather man's broadcast, who had said it would be a _sunny_ day. Although it didn't rain absolutely _all_ the time in England, and it was occassionally rather warm, it just had to be raining today, when Arthur didn't have his blasted brolly with him. Just his luck. Or lack of it, rather.

The water level wasn't as bad as it was in Birmingham, but as London was a big city and people had to get to work. As it was, lots of the roads were blocked due to all of the rain. "Too dangerous," Arthur repeated in an obsene immitation of the news reporter, as they had earlier mentioned that roads would be closed due to the amount of terrible weather. One of the roads closed was the one he used as a shortcut to get to work. "I suppose it's the long way 'round today," he grumbled moodily as his jogged turned into a mad dash after he checked his watch. "Fuck," he cursed angrily. "I've only got ten minutes left to get to the bloody place and my bus route is blocked!" he screamed to no one in particular as he ran frantically to his work place.

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

"This is the third time this week, Alfred F. Jones. What do you have to say about it? Any excuses?" The addressed person didn't look up from the desk before him, which his eyes were glued to. He didn't like looking people in the eyes when he was in trouble. He heard his headmaster release a heavy sigh of regret and managed to glance at the seemingly unkempt man towering over him, as he was sitting and the other man standing. "I think you should consider therapy, Al." Odd thing about that man, he was like one of the kids. He acted as if he were on the same level as the kids and didn't punish them really. At least, not in a patronising way.

"Therapy?" repeated the dirty-blond teenager, finally looking up properly. "Gramps, you can't do that to me!" he shouted, his eyes wide and panicked. He stood up and slammed his hands on the desk out of desperation and a bit of fury. "You know why I do it... Don't make me do this! I can stop! I can--" He stopped abruptly when Headmaster Julius**(1)** held up a hand to stop his tirade.

"Alfred, calm down. Sit down and take it easy," the brown-haired man said sternly, an unusual frown on his normally exubarent features. Unable to resist the authoritative man, Alfred fell back into the hard chair and his azure eyes travelled back to the table once more. Julius relieved another heavy sigh and ran a hand through his messy hair. Silence reigned for a while, and all Alfred could hear was the unusually loud ticking of the twenty four hour clock behind the rubber tree plant in the corner, until Julius sighed again and levelled Alfred with a serious and sombre stare. "I won't force you to go to the therapist's place, but I'm gonna give you the number of a place I know. And trust me," he said, flashing a reassurring grin now. "They work. Especially one Wang Yao," he added the last part as an afterthought. He shook his head and ripped off a post-it note and scribbled on it, and then grabbed Alfred's hand and stuffed the bright yellow paper into it, locking eyes. "Please, Al, just try it."

A minute or so later, Alfred shut the door to Julius's office with a quiet _clink_ sound, much different from the usual slam he emphasised his departure with. Sighing wearily, he looked down at the bright yellow post-it stoically before glaring at it and clenching his fist, scrunching it up. He raised his hand to through it but stopped abruptly and froze in that position, before grumbling and pocketing it. _Guess I should head to class..._ he thought ruefully, recalling the disappointed look in his headmaster's eyes. Julius had never looked so saddened. As if to shake the memory away, the American shook his head and began the trek to class.

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.

(1) - Julius is Ancient Rome. I don't believe he has been given a human name in the anime/webcomic, so I got a roman name to use. Glad my friend is so bloody intelligent. XD Thanks for that, Ken.

This is merely the prologue. I hope you guys will stay tuned for the rest of the story. Chapters are always longer than the prologue. Things will all be made clear later, but for now I'll let you guys know some little details.

- Presently, at the beginning of the story, Alfred _**is**_** nineteen in this, as he is in the anime. He is in a university and is studying law, but he wants to become a police officer, not a lawyer like his father wanted to, which will be brought into this later.  
- Analogous to that, Arthur is twenty three as he is in the canon. He is a therapist, as you may have possibly guessed. All characters shall probably be brought into this later on.  
- As you're probably most interested in, the pairings. -**_**sweatdrops**_**- I'm such a hypocrite... Well, I'm not sure of all of the pairings yet, but these are a few that I'm certain of: USxUK (with past FrancexUK), GreecexJapan (with past TurkeyxGreece), either RussiaxChina or RussiaxPrussia, AustriaxHungary, BelarusxUkraine, FrancexCanada. Not sure of any others yet.**

Reviews are appreciated.


	2. Maa nante koto nanda!

_**Maa nante koto nanda! Dame desu!**_

A thumping sound emitted from the bed and the springs creaked slightly when he fell back on it. He raised a hand to rub his tired eyes and heaved a sigh of aggravation. "I can't believe all this crap..." he thought out loud, pushing his hair out of his face and kicking off his shoes. "Givin' me a number for some person who'll just think I'm psycho," he said in annoyance, glaring, and removed the slip of paper from his back pocket, staring intently at the numbers before scowling. "Who does he think he is?" he grumbled irately, flicking the paper onto the floor and sighing once more.

_It's always been like this_, he thought ruefully with an edge of annoyance. _People have always thought I was crazy or somethin'... I misbehave a lot, but I'm not too sure why. They don't know either, though_, he justified. _So they can't lecture me about it!_

The phone suddenly rang, yanking him out of his thoughts. He pushed himself up with an agitated groan and crawled over to the phone. "S'up?" he greeted distractedly, inspecting the floorboards. _They look kinda loose_, he thought, blinking at them and then his eyes trailed to the walls. _And the wallpaper used to be blue, I swear... not brown... Ugh_.

"Alfred? Hello?" said a slightly timid but undeniably annoyed voice, and Alfred instantly recognised it to be his younger brother.

"Hey, Mattie!" he shouted, more cheerful. "How was school?" he enquired, still staring at the wallpaper.

"The usual," answered his duplicate with an anguished sigh. "I was mistaken for you three times today."

"Less than usual!" Alfred said, hoping to brighten the boys spirits.

"Mm," Matthew hummed in response, unimpressed. "I heard that the head master called you to his office," he said, getting to the point.

"Head ma-- oh." The older blond laughed sheepishly. He was still so used to American terms. He had only moved to England last year, whereas his brother had been there for several years due to their parent's split-up. "I was, yeah."

Matthew waited a moment before rolling his sky-blue eyes. "Well?" he prompted. "What was it about?" he demanded shortly. His brother could be so clueless!

"Oh, right," Alfred said, still sounding as if he weren't all there. "Just stuff, you know..."

"No, I don't know. That's why I'm asking," remarked the younger blond, brow twitching slightly before he sighed softly. "I wish you'd trust me more," he said quietly, and Alfred instantly felt unbelievably guilty before anger washed over him.

"Don't gimme that!" he snapped furiously, clutching the phone tightly. "You know I trust you more than anyone! Don't get all sappy on me and--"

"Alfred, calm down. I know. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that," came Matthew's firm but slightly hurt response.

Alfred paused before groaning. "No, Mattie," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "_I'm_ sorry. You know I have... y'know, trouble... controlling my temper and stuff..."

"Mm, I know," Matthew said gently. Both of them held their phones in awkward silence for a moment before Alfred decided he may as well divulge the information, or Matthew would be really worried and just pester him. Or worse, enlist France's help to get him to 'fess up.

"It... was about therapy. Julius recommended that I call some therapist called... uh, what was it again? Yong? Yang? Yao!" He snapped his fingers when he remembered. "Yao, yeah. That was it. Apparently he's a really successful therapist or something." He shrugged even though his brother couldn't see it.

"So," urged Matthew. "Are you going to call him then?" He sounded hopeful, which irritated Alfred slightly, but he hastily brushed it off.

"I dunno," he admitted, lying only slightly. _Probably not..._ "I mean..."

"I know you hate therapists, Alfred," said his brother sympathetically. "But... maybe it'll be good for you?" He sounded nervous and uncertain, as if he was going to be beat up for it.

Alfred paused for a moment and sighed. "D'you have to gimme the guilt trip, Mattie?" he asked, a smile tugging at his lips against his will.

"It's the only way to make you do things."

The older blond chuckled. "I guess," he confessed, and then hesitated. "But I still dunno..."

"Then, Alfred," said Matthew, his voice desparate and pleading. "Please consider it, and think wisely."

"Yeah..." Alfred agreed slowly before nodding. "I'll... I'll think about it, Mattie."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

"Arthur-san, you're soaked!"

The addressed man was leaning against the doorway, trying to regain his breath as his clothes and hair dripped. He was already creating a puddle. The sandy-haired man finally glanced up after managing to breathe again and sent his colleague an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Kiku," he said.

"Don't apologise," the shorter man replied hastily, his normally blank and calm eyes slightly concerned. "How did you get here? Your route is blocked." At Arthur's confused look, he said, "I saw it on the news..."

"Ah." The green-eyed man nodded. "Well, I walked."

Kiku seemed astonished. "In this weather? Arthur-san, I apologise for my rudeness, but that is insane!" he exclaimed worriedly.

Arthur chuckled fondly and smiled. "I'm all right, as you can see," he said. "You needn't worry for me."

Kiku just sent him a blank stare, but his brows were drawn, displaying his disapproval. "Next time it rains like this, you should just call to say you cannot come in..." he advised, trailing off when Arthur shook his head.

"I managed to get here, did I not?" the man questioned rhetorically, finally stepping fully into the place. "But, then... how did _you_ get here?" he asked, wincing at the feeling of his wet clothes.

"I only live down this road," the Japanese man murmured. "You've been before, but you got... slightly drunk, so I doubt you would remember..."

The Englishman flushed slightly and laughed sheepishly, smiling weakly. "Ah... I'm sorry about that," he said sincerely, slightly embarrassed.

"It's fine," the dark-haired man reassurred him quickly. "But you really shouldn't have come in! You're soaked, and you still have to get home as well..."

"I'll be all right," Arthur assured, smiling. "I'm glad you care about me, Kiku," he said quietly and earnestly.

The Japanese man blushed slightly. "Of course," he muttered. "Now, I will try to find you a towel. Please excuse me." He bowed and departed into a door behind his desk, leaving Arthur dripping in the lobby.

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

"I kinda wish teach' hadn't let me go home early... I'm all for having fun, but this is so boring! I have no one to do anything with!" complained a certain American boy as he leapt off of his bed. "I can't sleep, so I can't pass time with that. I don't have any good movies..." Matt only brought him his old Canadian movies, which are really weird... and what was with the _Anti-Americanism_ one? It was kind of insulting, really. "Argh!" He hit the table beside him, practically smashing it. "What can I...?" He trailed off upon realising that something was under his hand. Blinking, he lifted his hand to see that little slip of bright yellow paper.

Alfred glared. "It's like you're provoking me or something," he muttered, staring at the paper as if it were evil reincarnate.

_"Please consider it, and think wisely."_

The American blinked and shook his head. Why did he suddenly remember that? Remember hearing Matthew plead with him to... call that place? Call those people? He didn't want to... he didn't _need_ to, and he wasn't going to. He nodded curtly to himself as if confirming his thoughts. _No, I don't need to call the dang therapists! I'm fine without 'em, and I think I should teach the school a lesson for thinking I need them..._ he thought mischievously as he dashed to his cupboard, yanking out his spare storage of graffiti cans.

"Payback."

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

Pulling his jacket's hood up, Alfred's blue eyes darted around as he scanned the area, making sure no one was around. Once he was sure the surrounding area was empty, he flipped out his graffiti cans from his backpack. He shook the cans before he began spraying a verse on the old schoolwalls.

_Probing intrusions  
Deep within your brain  
Try to find the reason why  
You've gone insane_, is what it read. He had meant to finish that verse but was interrupted by a loud, indistinguishable shout. He jerked abruptly only to see the student council representative dashing towards him.

"You are being so _not_ awesome!" the albino boy shouted furiously, speeding towards Alfred, who hastily dropped his cans and ran for it. Needless to say, the red-eyed boy chased him endlessly, running around the school, over the football pitch where Alfred barely dodged getting tripped by the footballers--why were they even practicing in this weather?--and then skidded through the other playing field's until he reached the school gate. He glanced behind him, seeing the white-haired guy still chasing after him. _Jesus Christ!_ He thought in surprise and aggravation. _Doesn't this guy give up?_

He tried to increase his speed to make it out of the school gates, pushing himself, pumping his legs harder and moving his arms more to increase his speed, and he had almost made it to the gates, when he crashed into someone who seemed to just appear out of _nowhere_.

"Whoa, now," exclaimed the brunet boy that had stopped him. "I'm afraid you will have to come with us," he said with a strong Spanish accent, sounding almost apologetic and yet very jubilant.

Alfred grit his teeth. "Damn," he cursed, and then fell forwards when someone ran into him from behind. "Dude, what the hell?" he began, glowering behind him only to see that white-haired guy punching the air.

"Damn it, Antonio, you were supposed to let me get him!" he cried angrily.

"My apologies, mi amigo," replied the Spaniard with an amiable chuckle. "However, I thought it would be easier this way." The brunet turned to the blond with a bright smile. "You must follow us now."

"Why?" Alfred muttered, pouting. He shouldn't have been caught by the villains! He was a hero!

Antonio chuckled. "I doubt head master Julius would appreciate someone defiling school property," he explained cheerfully, clapping Alfred on the back and steering him towards the main building where the head master's office was located.

"Wait up, Antonio!" the red-eyed boy ordered, running up to them and walking beside the American kid. "So, who're you?" he asked, trying to make conversation.

"Uh..." Alfred looked confused. "Why are you talking to me?"

The other boy shrugged. "'Cause I'm bored. Anyway, the name's Gilbert, and this is my friend, Antonio." He gestured haphazardly to the slightly taller guy, who chuckled in response.

_This guy sure is cheerful..._ Alfred thought skeptically, blinking at the Spaniard before frowning. "Uh... well... can't you just lemme off? I'm already kinda in trouble..."

"I'm afraid not," Antonio apologised merrily as they entered the building, already completely soaked.

"By the way," Gilbert whispered conspirationally, and Alfred glanced at him curiously. "How come your graffiti didn't run in this rain?"

"Ah!" Alfred's eyes sparkled. "I've got--"

"I don't think you should be discussing these things," the brunet boy said happily but with a slightly threatening undertone.

"Psh, don't try to scare Al," murmured the albino, and Alfred wondered when they had suddenly been on abrrieviated names, let alone first names in general. "I know you're terrified of that Arthur bloke. You practically piss your pants when you see him!" he exclaimed, laughing loudly.

True enough, Antonio had paled slightly but he covered it up with a shaky smile after swallowing. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, amigo," he said, sounding strained. "Ah, we're here!" He sounded rather relieved. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Alfred!" he said, joyfulness back as he patted the American on the back. "Good luck with the head master." Giving the blond a final sympathetic nod, he dragged Gilbert somewhere else. Alfred guessed the student council room, but it was only a vague thought as he stared at the slightly intimidating door. He raised his hand to knock.

"Come in," a voice called seriously before his fist landed on the wood.

Alfred started, blinking, before swallowing and opening the door. "Teach', I--" he began, but, once more, Julius raised a hand to silence up. Alfred's mouth snapped shut and he fell into his usual chair.

"I'm not going to ask you why you did it," the man said in a sombre tone, and Alfred found a mobile phone thrust into his face. He blinked and looked up at his teacher, clueless.

"Teach'...?"

"Call them. Now."

A pause.

_But I don't need help... I don't want help..._

"Alfred... you need this. You may not want it, but you need it. Your brother is worried... Call them."

Alfred reached out, and took the phone.

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

**Characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

**Aww, Arthur has unrequited love for Kiku right now. :c Kiku doesn't realise it. And like I said, this will be **_**USxUK**_**, not EnglandxJapan. Japan will be with Greece later on. I bet you can't guess what's going to happen. ***_**smirks**_*** I really highly doubt it...**

**Please critique!**


	3. Tasukete!

Julius was honestly astonished when Alfred had leapt up and threw his mobile. The phone crashed against the wall, shattering into pieces.

The brunet man morphed his expression into one of impassiveness and he stared at Alfred, who was panting heavily, clenching and unclenching his fists.

"I don't need your help!" he shouted, eyes blazing. "I don't want anyone to help me. I've been independant for years, and I don't need anyone now!" he declared, glaring furiously at the man before him, various emotions swimming in his sky-blue eyes.

The elder man's eyes were boring into his, staring at him in pity, almost patronisingly. The man eventually broke the gaze and sighed forlornly with a shake of his head. "Regrettable," he murmured, getting off of the desk and rifling through his drawers.

Alfred's breathing finally got back under control but he remained scowling. "What is?" he muttered, his shoulders not as tense as they previously were.

"I was going to recommend you for a job at the precinct in America next year," Julius replied vaguely, eyes trained on the documents he was scanning.

"Wh-what?" Alfred stuttered, backtracking. His eyes were wide again instead of narrowed, and all signs of anger had vanished by now. "Really?"

"Mm," the older man hummed in agreement with a nod. "I mean, including this year, you only have two years left, and I know that you preferred your home." He shrugged and looked up from whatever he was reading. "But I guess there's no point then, right?"

The blond frowned in confusion and annoyance. He waited for a few seconds, wondering if Julius was going to continue and explain, but the man simply glanced back down at his documents, humming to himself.

Shifting uncomfortable, Alfred finally grumbled, "I'd... like that."

Julius disguised a smirk and merely looked up at him with a quirked brow. "Would you now?" he drawled rhetorically. "But I thought you didn't want help," he mumbled, discreetly emphasising the last three words, appeased when Alfred appeared very awkward.

"Well," the American muttered, averting his gaze. "I guess I could accept this." He then turned to glower at his head teacher. "What do you want in return?" he asked, and Julius chuckled in amusement.

"No getting past you, eh, Alfred?" the man said jokingly, smiling a closed-eyed smile to hide his deceptive eyes. "Well," he said in a sing-song tone, standing up and streching. "I think you can guess for yourself what I want."

Alfred frowned for a second before he sighed and looked down. "Right. Yeah, I know," he grumbled moodily, almost pouting. "But... can I do it later?" he asked hopefully. At Julius's expression of disapproval, he hastily added, "I will do it. I just... want some time to think things over and stuff, you know?" He looked straight into the man's brown eyes, and the elder man could see the pleading within the blue orbs, and so, taking pity on the poor kid, he nodded curtly once.

"All right," he agreed. "But if you don't go through with it..."

"Don't worry," the blond said, flashing a grin. "A hero never goes back on his word, and I'm one of them heroes!"

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

"It's really unfair that he made me go to classes today!" Alfred whined petulantly, pouting and stuffing his hands in his pockets. Matthew glanced at him tiredly. "I didn't even have class today, but he made me make up what I'd missed..." he grumbled. "He usually lets me off."

As they approached the outside, they zipped up their jackets and took out their strong umbrellas, Matthew having thought ahead due to the strong wind that would turn most umbrellas inside-out.

"Alfred," his brother said wearily. "You have to work hard to obtain things. You know how hard I'm working to become a lawyer," he said softly. "A-and the others," he added hastily, not wanting to seem like he was bragging. "Everyone's doing so much do just get by. So, for him to actually offer you this opportunity..." He shook his head and looked at his brother properly. "You should be very grateful."

The blond glared at him and opened his mouth to retort, but stopped himself when Matthew flinched. He closed his mouth and paused for a long moment before saying quietly, "Yeah. Yeah, I know."

Matthew smiled. "Good," he said. "I'm glad." He looked around before crossing the road, and then jogged to catch up to his danger-seeking brother who didn't even glance on the roads. He muttered a feeble attempt at berating him, but went ignored. _As usual_, he thought with a sigh as they approached the bus stop.

"I wish it weren't raining so much," Alfred muttered with a heavy sigh, pouting. "Rain is so dull."

The younger boy shot the other blond a scepitcal look. "Honestly, what did you expect?" he asked rhetorically. "This is _England_," he reminded his brother.

"I know that," Alfred snapped, and inwardly cursed at his temper when his brother silently looked away. "Sorry." He ran a hand through his hair. "Anyway," he said with a grin. "D' you wanna go to McD--"

The rest of his sentence went unheard, but the brothers _did_ hear a screech of tires, a scream, and more screams, before a vehicle reeled off the road, breaking through the barriers and rolling down.

The brothers stood there, astonished, as people gasped and shouted amongst themselves. People flipped out phones to call an ambulance whilst one small woman pushed the crowd aside, bawling her eyes out. "Big brother!" she screamed as tears poured down her face. She dropped onto her knees next to the still figure in the road and immediately ripped off a piece of fabric from her dress, pushing it against the huge wound in his stomach and applied pressure. "Please, big brother, stay with me!" she sobbed, her small shoulders shaking as blood poured out of the prone figure on the ground.

The two brothers remained there in the pouring rain even when the ambulance arrived, both of their eyes wide and horrified, but one's more so than the others.

_Just like... that time..._

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

"Alfred... did you make it home all right?"

"Yeah, Mattie. I'm on the phone, aren't I?" replied the elder brother into his phone, buttoning his pyjama shirt as sitting down on his bed.

"Yeah..." Matthew agreed, sounding slightly distracted. He shook it off, however, and said, "Anyway, we should get some sleep."

"What?" Alfred look scandalised. "Didn't that freak you out?" he exclaimed.

"You know it did," the younger boy responded quietly, and Alfred could just imagine him hugging his old Kumijarou bear. That bear was really odd, Alfred thought.

"Right..." Alfred agreed, feeling awkward. "Fine, well... sleep well, Mattie," he said.

"Yeah. Good night, Alfred."

"'Night," he said, and hung up. He stared at the phone in his hand for a long moment before reluctantly reaching out and grabbing the yellow post-it.

_"Daddy!" a small boy screamed, eyes wide and fists clenched tightly around his bear. "Daddy," he said with a sob. "Why aren't you talking?"_

Alfred sat frozen for a moment before noticing his brother was crying. "D-don't worry, Mattie," he said shakily. "I'm sure dad's fine," he mumbled uncertainly. He moved forward to look into the driver's seat but whined as pain flashed through him. Looking down, he noticed a small red patch on his white shirt. He clutched his side as if it helped stop the pain and sat backwards.

"A-Alfred...?" his brother whispered fearfully, terrified.

Alfred smiled in reassurrance. "Someone will be here to help us soon."

Swallowing loudly, he began dialling the number.

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

"Good afternoon. Kiku Honda speaking. You have contacted the Yin Tian Agency. How may we help you?" a certain Japanese man greeted politely, pausing in the letter he was writing.

"Uh, hey," replied the voice on the other end. Kiku immediately noticed the American accent and, judging by his hesitation, he wasn't already a patient at their therapy agency. "I'm... uh... Alfred Jones. Um... I was told to call you guys," he said awkwardly.

"Yes, sir," Kiku said politely, knowing that people always felt uncomfortable calling for therapy.

"Um... I was told to call some guy... Wang Yao?" he ventured a guess, not really good at remembering things.

"My brother," Kiku informed him calmly.

"Yeah, right," Alfred agreed, and then there was an awkward pause.

"So, when would you like your appointment to be booked?" the Japanese man asked, getting to the point, getting out his pen again.

"Wh-what? Oh," Alfred said, sounding incredibly uncertain. "Well, I dunno..."

"Shall I book it for tomorrow?" Kiku offered helpfully. "Maybe this rain will die down by then," he explained.

"Oh. Right. Sure."

Kiku waited patiently until the boy made a sound of understanding.

"Oh. Uh... how about eight?"

"In the morning?" the black-haired man asked, still patient.

"_Morning_? Jesus Christ! No!" the American exclaimed, making Kiku jump in surprise. "I meant in the evening. Who's awake at eight in the morning?"

_Everyone who works here_, Kiku thought bluntly but merely said, "All right... The only person working at that time is Mr. Kirkland."

"Uh... all right," Alfred replied uncertainly, not really caring about the person's name. "Well, thanks, I guess."

"You are welcome. Good afternoon, Mr. Jones."

"Um... yeah, see ya."

He hung up and blinked at the phone. _That was weird_, he thought. _But easier than I'd anticipated..._

Shrugging, he put his phone on the bedside table, removed his glasses, and heeded his brother's advice and tried to sleep.

On the other end of the line, the phone rang again. Sighing softly and a bit tiredly, Kiku picked up the phone. "Good afternoon. Kiku Honda speaking. You have contacted--"

"Mr. Honda," a voice said gravely, sounding apologetic and rueful.

Kiku blinked slowly. "Yes...?" he asked slowly, a feeling of dread creeping up on him.

"I am sorry to inform you that your elder brother, Wang Yao, has been hospitalised at St. George's Hospital**(1)**. He is currently in the emergency room and I am uncertain whether or not he is yet in stable condition..."

The person had said more, but Kiku didn't hear it, as he had dropped the phone.

_Aniki has been... hospitalised?_

"I am uncertain whether or not he is yet in stable condition..."

"Kami-sama," the Japanese man breathed, his eyes burning slightly. He shakily reached for the phone to hear the person calling his name. "I'm here. C-can I come down to the hospital?" he asked, forcing a calm tone even though his nerves were frantic.

"You may, however you won't be able to see your brother until he is in stable condition," the man on the other end replied regretfully.

"Okay. I understand." Kiku swallowed and took a deep breath. "Thank you for calling."

"No problem," the man replied gently, and added a final apology before cutting the line.

Kiku dropped the phone and sobbed into his hands.

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

**Characters/APH (c) Hidekaz Himaruya**

**(1) This is a real hospital. I should know; my mother goes there frequently.**

**I'm so sorry, Kiku and siblings. ;n; It isn't my fault, I swear! It was [SPOILER CENSORED]. So, you understand, of course?**

**Alfred and Arthur meet in the next chapter, but not the way you may think. It isn't anything to get excited about... actually... no. No, it isn't. Or is it? My apologies, guys. I'm rather drunk. ...XD No, not really.**

**Reviews are very much appreciated. ;w; I will give you scones in compensation. -**_**holds out tray of burnt scones**_**- So, please review. c: I'll just be reading (again) before I start writing the next chapter. Yes, reading and research is the majority of what I do in my spare time. Along with video games, watching porn, listening to music... -**_**coughs**_**- Just kidding. XD ...Or am I? Yes.**

**I'm just going to shut up now (**_**finally**_**). **_**Please**_** review. I thrive on them. I must improve...!**


	4. Yarou!

"Oh, fuck," Arthur cursed quietly when he finally checked the clock. He hadn't realised he had been working this long. It was nearing nine in the evening - he was supposed to have left half an hour ago. He grabbed his coat, grimacing at the damp feeling. "It's been on the bloody heater since this _morning_, and it's still damp," he muttered, but shrugged it on anyway. "Just fucking fantastic."

He exited his office and locked the door behind him, shivering in his long but cold coat.

"You're leaving late, Arthur."

The addressed man turned to see his acquaintance and colleague, and he nodded at the man. He respected the German and got along fairly well with him most of the time, but he wouldn't dream of telling the blue-eyed blond man that he admired him. Finally responding, the Englishman nodded and said, "Indeed." He put his key back in his coat pocket and began walking down the hallway, Lugwig's company making him feel slightly uncomfortable but at least it distracted him from the annoyingly wet coat. "I hadn't realised the time," he explained, forcing the sheepishness from his voice and trying not to feel bad when Lugwig scowled at him in disapproval.

"You shouldn't overwork yourself, Arthur," he chastised. "You know what happened last time."

Arthur flushed guiltily but folded his arms defensively. "You can talk," he retorted. "You work a lot as well." He ignored the German's raised brow. "I only passed out once..."

"I may work often, but I don't do it as much as you. And you're right, it _was_ just once, but no one found you for quite a while, and when we did we'd found you'd hit your head when you fell." He levelled the dirty-blond with a serious look. "You do know we were worried. You shouldn't have worked that much."

The green-eyed man sighed and unfolded his arms. "Yes, I know, Lugwig. It won't happen again," he vowed sullenly.

"Why don't I believe that?" the blond mumbled to himself, but deliberately letting Arthur hear.

"Oh, do shut up," he murmured in a snappish tone as they both began descending the stairs.

"Next time you faint, at least do it with people around." He looked at Arthur with a stony face. He was always so serious! "All right?"

"Yes, yes. All right," Arthur agreed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He respected the man, but that didn't mean he had to tolerate him.

As the two neared the front foyer, they heard faint sounds of muffled sobbing. Arthur immediately grew concerned and made a dash down the rest of the stairs, ignoring Ludwig's calls of, "Be careful!"

_The only person down there is Kiku_, he thought, heart thumping hastily in his chest. _He's got to be all right, though! What could have possibly happened?_ He questioned no one, skidding into the lobby and panting heavily.

Kiku, hearing his mad entrance, gasped and looked up, wiping his eyes quickly. "A-Arthur-san," he said, trying to seem as if nothing happened, but his red eyes and shaky voice gave him away. He tensed up in surprise when Arthur enveloped him into a hug. "A-Arthur-san!" he exclaimed, embarrassed.

"Kiku, I know you're upset right now," the blond man said quietly, sombre. "You don't have to talk about it, but... you can... cry, if you want to." He tightened his grasp on the Japanese man.

_Arthur-san... thank you..._ Kiku thought, unable to hold back his sobs any longer and burying his face into the Englishman's shoulder, the man's already-damp coat soaking up his tears.

Germany stared from the bottom of the stairs before sighing ruefully. He flipped out his car keys as he headed outside.

_Why do you always suffer from unrequited love, Arthur?_

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

"Ugh!" Alfred shouted, shooting up from bed. "I can't sleep!" he complained, throwing his legs over the side and grabbing his phone, dialling Matthew's number. He had to wait for a while before the phone was answered.

"Ungh... Alfred...?" the sleepy voice of his younger brother questioned.

"How can you be sleeping _this_ early? Ugh, you freak," Alfred said with a roll of his eyes. "It's almost ten."

"Excuse me for needing sleep," Matthew muttered, miffed.

"Well, I don't. And I'm bored. Let's do something!" he said brightly, grinning happily.

"No," his brother answered bluntly, and hung up.

Alfred gawked light a fish before growling and slamming the phone down. "Not cool, man," he said huffily before sighing in resignation. "I could call Francis, but he'd probably take me to some Strip Club or something. Not that I'd mind," he added, smirking slightly. Hey, he was still eighteen. His hormones hadn't quite died down just yet. He hummed thoughtfully before he finally decided to take a chance and call the French man. He would rather do this than be so damn bored.

"Bonjour," a sultry voice answered, sounded content and flirtatious.

"Yo, Francis," Alfred said. "You doing anything?"

"Actually, yes," Francis replied, sounding slightly agitated. He was probably expecting one of his girlfriends or boyfriends or inanimate objects to call him. "I am waiting for someone," he said. "A beautiful, wonderful girl from Seychelles! She's rather interesting and very lively. Also, she--"

"Whatever." Alfred rolled his eyes. _Exaggerating much?_ "Fine. Well, I guess I'll see you around--"

"Non, non, mon cher," the man said hastily, resorting to French.

Alfred quirked a brow and pulled his phone back to his ear. "Uh huh?"

"I can probably set you up with someone quickly enough," Francis said thoughtfully, humming. "Because I assume you're very bored, oui?"

The American pouted. "Well... kinda..." he agreed, nonplussed.

"Well," Francis said, chuckling. "I shall meet you at Weatherspoons**(1)**."

"What? I thought you'd choose some posh French restaurant," Alfred said, confused.

"Yes," the other blond said reluctantly. "My lady friend wanted to go there for some reason. I do not know why. I mean, English food is rather disgusting!"

"You could just dump her and find some other chick that likes French food," Alfred suggested casually, not really giving a damn.

"That is the problem."

Alfred blinked at this. Francis had a _problem_? "What is it? She ain't fashionable?"

"Actually, I happen to think she is very beautiful," the French man said, actually sounding offended.

Honestly, the teenager was astonished. Francis was an infamous lecherous pervert, using people and just going out with people for sex. But this time, he sounded as if he really did like whoever it was. _This is new_, the American thought, still shocked.

"In any case," Francis continued, having composed himself. "We will meet you at the Weatherspoons that's just down your road in about half an hour. Au revoir!" And he hung up before Alfred could respond.

The teenager growled and threw the phone down before rushing a shower and yanking on a white t-shirt and a bomber jacket he had always favoured. He pulled on a random pair of jeans and his scruffy converse sneakers, gelled his blond hair, and then picked up his cell phone and wallet before heading downstairs. He tip-toed past the girl who lived on the ground floor of the flats and headed outside, but just before that he grabbed his umbrella. He glanced down the street but didn't see any sign of Francis, so he began walking down the street to Weatherspoons.

He was glad to enter. The wind, rain and just the pure chilly weather got on his nerves. He shuddered slightly but grinned to himself when he entered the family bar. Alfred wondered what kind of chick Francis was dating who would want to go to some bar that also accepted kids and stuff. It made no sense to Alfred why someone would go through something they didn't want to do just because he liked someone.

"Sir, please calm down!" Alfred heard someone shout, and he turned to see a couple of bartenders restraining someone. He quirked a brow. It was about time for a hero to step him.

"Hey, babe. Sorry I'm late," the blond American said with a charming grin, and the bartenders looked up at him.

"Sir? Is this... your, erm, significant other?" one of them asked with a raised brow, and Alfred watched in amusement as he bit on his Cuban cigar too hard and it fell.

"Yeah," he lied easily. "She's probably a bit mad 'cause I'm late. Sorry about that," he said with a forced sheepish tone; he had acted before to get out of trouble, he could do it again.

"_She_?" one of the men repeated, his face calm and slightly sleepy but his tone annoyed. "This person is your lover and you don't know their gender?" he muttered. "Love is such a fickle thing..."

"What're you talking about?" Alfred asked, confused now.

"Uh... your date is a guy, man," the dark-skinned man said bluntly, thrusting the struggling _man_ into Alfred's arms, who caught him easily enough, only stumbling slightly due to the surprise. He fumbled a bit before managing to grasp the man's shoulders.

"Uh, right," he said distractedly to the bartenders. "I get confused due to his PMS-y attitude?" It sounded more like a guess, but the sleepy-looking brunet and the dark-skinned man seemed satisfied as long as the drunkard wasn't bothering them, and they returned to their work. The Cuban man winked at Alfred before disappearing behind the counter whereas the Greek didn't seem to care at all, just continued polishing glasses and silently serving patrons.

Alfred almost forgot about the man he was (sort of) holding, until the guy emitted a groan.

"Uh, dude?" he said, unnerved when he didn't receive a response. "Are you o--?" He cut himself off when the sound on sniffing made its way into his ears and he pulled the man away a bit only to see his eyes watering. "Ah! H-hey, man, t-take it easy! What's up?" he exclaimed, panicked. He didn't know how to handle people in these situations.

"No one loves me," the dirty-blond man said with a sob, but his tears didn't spill over. His cheeks were flushed from the alcohol and he seemed to be sweating. "I'm alone!" he cried, struggling in Alfred's hold. "Lemme gooo," he whined.

"I think I should escort you home or something," Alfred muttered, sweatdropping. "You're kinda, uh, fucking pissed." He nodded.

"No, I'm not," the man disagreed, but then groaned.

"What is it?" the blond asked reluctantly, frowning.

"I think I'm g'na be sick," he slurred, holding a hand over his mouth.

"Fuck no."

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

The man had dashed to the bathroom to be sick, and Alfred was quite impressed by how fast he was in spite of being intoxicated, and he hadn't tripped over anything. However, hhe did feel a bit sorry for the guy when he heard the retching and coughing and... ugh, it was just disgusting.

_But_, Alfred lamented, feeling slightly guilty for being revolted. _Mattie took care of me when I was sick. This guy must feel like shit... Damn_. Sighing in frustration, Alfred slowly opened the cubicle door and knelt next to the man, who was panting heavily between a small break between retches.

The teenager sighed and began rubbing circles on the man's back, grimacing slightly when he began being sick again.

When the man had finally finished, he seemed a little bit more sober. "S-sorry about that," he grumbled, rubbing his forehead and wincing. "You didn't have to help..." he said and looked at the floor.

_He hasn't looked into my eyes..._ Alfred noticed, blinking at the man. "I shouldn't have," he agreed, noting the hurt look in the man's eyes but not really caring. It wasn't his fault if the guy had... what was it called? Unre-- whatever. "Now the guys at the bar think we're, like... together. Or something," he said, looking slightly disgusted.**(2)**

"Oh," the man answered, still not facing him. "My apologies," he said, and Alfred finally noticed his prominent accent.

"Hey, you're British," he said, pointing out the obvious.

The Englishman rolled his eyes. "A British citizen in _Britain_? What _is_ the world coming to?" he exclaimed dramatically.

"No need to be snarky," the American said with a huff. "I did kinda help you. And how did you become sober so quickly anyway?" he asked curiously. He would like to learn the sobering technique. It could come in useful...

"I've... had a lot of practice," the man said awkwardly. "Anyway, thank you for your help, brat. Good day." He nodded his head and brushed past him.

At this point, Alfred remembered that he was supposed to meet Francis and his date. Cursing, he dashed out of the door, tumbling into the English dude again and knocking him onto the floor. "Ahaha... Sorry, my bad," the blond said sheepishly, grinning.

"Urgh. Kids," the man grumbled in annoyance, glaring weakly at the boy. _I don't feel very well_, he thought as the teenager above him stood and offered him a hand, which he reluctantly accepted, being accidentally yanked into the boy's broad chest. His already-flushed face darkened and he pulled away only for a wave of vertigo to hit him and he slumped in the American's hold, clenching his eyes shut and gasping.

"Hey, man, you okay?" the blue-eyed boy asked, tightening his grip on the man, who pulled away--a lot slower than before, Alfred noticed.

"I'm fine," the man answered snappishly, brows drawn. He turned away and began walking out, but the door flew open and he had to jump back before it hit him.

"Bonjour, everyone!" an infamous voice shouted brightly, and, unsurprisingly, he had two girls latched to his sides, and a slap mark on his face. Alfred beelined towards him, unimpressed. "Ah, Alfred! These girls are--"

"Which one's yours and which one's mine?" the blond interrupted, and the girls glared, offended.

"Alfred, that is not how to speak to a lady," Francis chastised, frowning and groping the backs of the women, who giggled in response.

"As if _you_ know how to speak to a lady - in a _dignified_ manner," a certain British voice said scathingly, and everyone turned to the flushed now-sober(?) man.

"Arthur!" Francis exclaimed, eyes wide in fake surprise but lips curved into a smirk. "What a surprise--"

"Don't give me that, you git!" he shouted furiously, storming up to the French man and slapping him around the face. "I got a call from Michelle. She told me what happened." He looked utterly disgusted. "You do know she never wants to see you again?" He didn't give Francis time to respond and merely punched his arm viciously. "She _cared_ about you, and the only reason I didn't take her away from you in the first place was because I thought you cared for her _too_!" He met the French man's eyes. "You honestly disgust me, Bonnefoy." He shook his head and folded his arms. Not just to look threatening but because he was bloody fucking _freezing_. "Don't let me see you again if you want to live." With that, he shoved the man out of his way and departed from the pub/restaurant... _without_ an umbrella, Alfred noticed.

"You really did sound as if you cared about her," Alfred added with a scowl of disapproval, which Francis just snorted at, but there was a lingering _something_ in his eyes that told Alfred that he was regretful.

"You actually believed it?" the man whispered with a sad smirk. He shook his head. "Come on, ladies. Let's get a drink."

Alfred watched them go to the bar before shaking his head, grabbing the umbrella he had left on a table by the door and departing from the place, only to see the same Englishman walking down the road, rubbing his own arms and stumbling slightly.

_Argh! The idiot_, the American thought, jogging up to him and opening his umbrella. "S'up?"

The Englishman looked up at him, astonished, before turning away. "What do you want?" he muttered. _Please leave me alone... I don't feel well... I want to... get... home..._

"Well, you look like you're kinda about to die right now, so I thought--" He cut himself off when the dirty-blond suddenly just fell forward, and, without a second thought, moved to catch him.

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

**Characters (c) Hidekaz Himaruya**

**(1) This is a real pub/restaurant.**

**(2) Alfred's a bit of a homophobic at first. I've based this off of some of America being homophobic (and no offence intended, homophobia is, unfortunately, everywhere. It's just a good plot device as well), but obviously that side of Alfred will be diminished by Arthur. :D**

**Germany is omniscient. Apart from when it comes to himself. Hmm... silly cookiewurst, ne, MerryxMaking? :D**

**Also, I'm uncertain about some pairings, so I'm letting you guys vote. So:**

**AustriaxHungary**

**PrussaxHungary**

**RussiaxPrussia**

**RussiaxLithuania**

**RussiaxChina**

**KoreaxChina**

**PolandxLithunia/LithuaniaxPoland**

**It's up to you to decide on the ones above. Also, I'll probably pair France and Canada (because they're adorable together, admit it), so who should Seychelles be with? Oh, and if you didn't notice, the 'Michelle' that's mentioned is meant to be Seychelles. I made up a name for her like I did for Rome. I was going to call her Angelique but... I don't know. I'm too English.**

**Please review. I'm desparate. And I want tea. -**_**scuttles away for fuel**_**-**


	5. Baka ie!

_Emerald green eyes fluttered open and a little boy moaned, trying to sit up. He looked around with an innocent and confused air about him, and gasped when he saw an adorable but beautiful little lady with almost-transparent wings that glittered and shone in the sunlight. Her skin started off as the purest of whites but as it lowered it became a pale jade green. Her eyes matched his own, but her smile was much more wonderful... so much more magic._

"Come play with us, Arthur," the pretty little fairy said softly, both of her hands reaching out to touch his cheeks, and she placed a tiny kiss on his nose. Nonetheless, his blush was a deep crimson, making the little creature giggle happily as she zipped upwards, and other fairies joined her, forming all the colours of the rainbow and more, entrancing the little boy.

"We'll take care of you," they all echoed, smiling kindly at the small figure that was sitting in the field of flowers, who tilted his head as if considering their proposal, and then he nodded with a smile that made any remaining dark clouds disappear. The fairies laughed merrily and began zipping in random directions. "Come on, Arthur," they said brightly. "Fly with us!"

"B-but I can't fly," the little boy said sadly, his eyes beginning to water. He felt his tears spill as they all flew away, disappearing into the distance and forming a rainbow in the sky. "H-hey!" he called desparately, trying to run after them. "W-wait for me! Don't leave me! Please!" he screamed, and then tripped. Falling, he plunged into the darkness.

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

As soon as his consciousness flooded back to him, he sat up, only to immediately regret it and fell back against the pillows, gasping until the pain in his head receded. He then cautiously opened his eyes, but closed them half way again after the sunlight filtering in caused the pounding sensation in his head to grow. He lifted a hand to his forehead and grimaced when he felt the sweat drenching his brow. Speaking of which, he felt undeniably sticky, which made him feel exceedingly uncomfortable. He shifted restlessly, only to still when he began coughing throatily.

"That sounds bad," a voice commented, and he jumped again, which once more triggered his disgusting coughing fit. He clutched his chest and cupped a hand over his mouth as he coughed, and felt a strong hand patting him on the back hard enough to bruise.

When Arthur had finally stopped coughing his lungs out, he glared weakly up at the boy, finding him rather familiar. "Next time you try to help me, please don't break my spine," he spat irately.

"You're welcome," the kid replied with a roll of his eyes. "You know, you should be grateful. I brought you back to my place."

Arthur stiffened. "Wh-what? Where am I?" he asked, panicking increasing. He fisted the sheets and tried to keep his breathing under control. _I got drunk again. Please don't say _that_ happened again..._

"Like I said," the younger blond began, not noticing Arthur's increasing panic. "You're at my place. You got kinda bladdered, shouted at Francis--how do you know him, by the way? You then left and kinda, well, fainted." He looked slightly embarrassed here. "I, uh... carried you back here, since I dunno where you live 'n' all. So, yeah," he concluded with a shrug, not meeting Arthur's gaze. "You might wanna visit a doctor. You seem really sick."

"I'm fine; I've had worse," the green-eyed man muttered, sitting up and throwing his legs over the bed, shivering violently at once. He blinked when he noticed he was wearing some oversized pyjamas with spaceships on them, and glanced questioningly at the teenager before him, who flushed slightly but grinned sheepishly.

"Well, your clothes were wet and even I know that you can't leave someone in wet clothes," he explained, looking away. "Those are my old PJs from when I was, like... sixteen or something."

"You had spaceships on your pyjamas when you were sixteen?" Arthur asked, smirking.

"Oh, shut up," Alfred snapped, flushing slightly. "I like astronomy and stuff, all right?" he said defensively.

Arthur took pity on the boy and smiled. "It's good to see kids are still dedicated to that sort of thing," he said, before he began coughing again. After he had finished his coughing fit--which _really_ hurt his throat, by the way--he moved to stand. "I don't want to impose on you anymore than I already have, so I'll be on my way." With that, he pushed himself up, only for the blond to place a sturdy hand on his shoulder, and he fell back down on the bed. He blinked in confusion before glowering slightly. "What is it?"

"'What is it'?" the American repeated incredulously. He folded his arms and scowled down at Arthur in disapproval. "You're sick, so you ain't goin' _anywhere_!" he declared boldly, unaffected when the Englishman whacked his waggling finger out of his face.

"Your accent changed," Arthur observed, noticing the boy's confusion. "Your accent sounded... well, it sounded like a Boston accent for a moment there," he said, blushing for some inexplicable reason.

"Oh. Yeah, Mattie said I do that sometimes," Alfred answered with a dismissive shrug, obviously not wanting to talk about it. When he noticed Arthur's blank look, he said, "Mattie's my brother. Uh, Matthew."

"Hmm," was all the reply he received, and he noticed the man swaying slightly even though he was sitting down.

"Maybe you should get some more sleep..." he trailed off, finally realising he didn't know the man's name.

"Oh. Ah, terribly sorry," the English stuttered, embarrassed that he hadn't introduced himself. _And I'm supposed to be a gentleman!_ "Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland," he said with a nod, wincing when his headache came back with vengeance. He frowned when the blond kid laughed. "What's so funny?" he demanded defensively, folding his arms, and Alfred couldn't help but think he looked kind of cute in the too-big pyjamas with a pout on his face.

"You introduced yourself like James Bond," the American explained with an amused grin, chuckling when Arthur rolled his eyes. "I'm--"

"Indiana Jones?" Arthur teased with a smirk.

"Alfred Jones," the boy answered, pouting slightly because Arthur had interrupted his awesome introduction.

"I got the 'Jones' part, anyway," the dirty-blond said with a small chuckle, only to cough and cringe afterwards. "Maybe you're right," he lamented, collapsing backwards. "I don't think I could walk anyway," he added to himself, but Alfred heard him anyway and laughed, making Arthur bristle.

"You're just like a damsel in distress or something," the American said, grinning mischievously.

"E-excuse me?" Arthur sputtered, blushing furiously. "I'll have you know I am a gentleman, and I--"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Alfred replied with another roll of his eyes as he threw the blankets over Arthur's head, making the man huff agitatedly and yank the blankets off of his already-messy hair. "Well, uh... sleep well, Artie."

"W-we've barely known each other for a few minutes and we're already on first-name basis? Not to mention the abbrieviation!" he exclaimed, scandalised. _Yes, indeed, Kiku is rubbing off on me_, he thought, and at the memory of Kiku sobbing, he instantly felt worry and grief overwhelm him.

Alfred blinked, noticing the man's face fall, but didn't bring it up. "Well," he said, sounding slightly awkward. "I guess I'll take you to the doctors tomorrow or something." With that, he nodded with a smile and departed from the room, practically slamming the door. Arthur winced and rolled his eyes when he heard a loud and obnoxious, "Sorry, my bad!"

Turning over, Arthur stared silently at the Superman curtains, and couldn't help but think of manga, which then reminded him of Kiku once more. Sighing, he clutched the blankets and curled up, eventually falling into a restless sleep with dreams of fairies and unicorns turning into nightmares of greyscale loneliness and blood.

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

"You just brought a random man into your house?" a voice shouted furiously, jolting Arthur out of his nightmare. He sat up, panting heavily and clutching his head with a wince as he recalled the screeching of tires, a little boy and a small girl screaming, a crash, blood... He shuddered violently again, hugging himself as he regained his bearings. He couldn't lie to himself. He couldn't tell himself it was just a dream. "Do you know how insane that is?" the voice yelled again, and the Englishman broke himself out of his panicked reverie.

"He fainted, Mattie! What 'm I supposed to do?" He heard Alfred bark back, slightly surprised by the anger in it.

"Alfred," the unknown voice, Alfred's brother Arthur assumed, said warningly.

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I know," the American said with a loud sigh. "But... I felt kinda sorry for the guy. He was muttering something about unrequited love last night, and then he just passed out when he left the bar..."

Another sigh was heard, this time from the other brother. "Everyone has problems, Alfred," Matthew murmured softly, but shook his head. "We should take him home though, so his own family can take care of him. You're still in school, Alfred."

There was a long pause before Arthur heard Alfred mutter, "Yeah..." Why did he sound so reluctant? "But can we wait 'til he wakes up?"

"Oh, Alfred! Fine. Do you have any pancakes in the mean time? And maple syrup?"

"I always have a supply in case you come 'round, Mattie."

As the conversation lulled into less serious matters about food and school and whatnot, Arthur slowly pushed himself up off of the bed. He gasped when the world seemed to tilt on its axis and his vision swam, but he managed to catch himself against the wall before falling. He clenched his eyes shut, gasping painfully as his headache pounded, and he opened them when the pain in his head dulled down a bit. He glanced blearily around the room but, unable to locate any of his clothes, grumbled and stumbled over to the door, practically falling against it.

Hearing the thump, the two brothers looked up. Alfred slammed the syrup can back onto the table and ran to his bedroom. He threw the door open, astonished when he saw Arthur there, but caught the man nonetheless.

"What the hell were you thinking, Arthur?" he practically shouted. "I told you to rest! You shouldn't--"

"I'm fine," Arthur assured him again, scowling slightly and struggling against Alfred's firm grasp. "I was planning on heading home. I feel a lot better," he said, holding back the urge to cough.

"'I'm fine' my ass!" Alfred shouted, not noticing Arthur wincing against the volume. "You're really sick, Arthur! You--"

"Alfred!" his brother hissed behind him with a glare of disapproval. "You're hurting him," he said, nodding towards Alfred's tight grip on Arthur's arms.

Alfred immediately loosened his grip, biting his lip. "Sorry," he apologised feebly. _Damn my fucking temper..._

Matthew turned to the flushed man his brother was holding and observed him. "You do seem rather sick," he lamented, shyness coming back to him now that he wasn't talking to his brother. "Maybe we should drive you to a doctor and call your family?" he suggested nervously.

Arthur didn't want to make himself look even more pitiful, so he said, "I don't need a doctor. I'll be fine." He didn't miss Alfred's glare, but he ignored it.

"Are you _insane_?" He could not, however, ignore the boy's loud voice. "You fucking _collapsed_ yesterday!"

Arthur suddenly recalled what Ludwig had said, and remembered that the German said to at least pass out with people around. A sardonic smile made its way to his face when he realised he did do as the blond had ordered.

The two brothers, noticing the sick man's melancholic smirk, exchanged worried looks. "I think he's insane," Alfred said bluntly, and Arthur slapped him. "Owww!" the boy whined, rubbing his cheek with one hand and keeping Arthur upright with the other, which was wound around the man's waist. "For a small guy like you, you sure can-- ow! Stop it!"

"Then stop insulting me, you bloody git!" Arthur shouted, only to cause his hoarse throat to clog up and he coughed frantically, missing the worried looks Alfred and Matthew exchanged.

"That doesn't sound good at all, eh," the Canadian said in concern, frowning. "We'd best get you to a doctor... What's your family's number?" he asked, searching his Kumajirou-bear backpack to locate his phone.

"Don't have one," Arthur gasped weakly, slumping against Alfred even more.

"Eh?" Matthew asked, blinking. "You aren't in contact with them...?" he asked.

Arthur looked even sicker at that question. "I have... a son and a neice," he admitted, extremely hesitent, and Alfred could feel him shaking. "Th-they're with their adoptive parents. Um... there's no one else," the man said as levelly as possible.

"Oh," Matthew said awkwardly, feeling guilty even though he hadn't done anything to warrant it. "I'm sorry..." He was surprised when Arthur just smiled weakly at him.

"Soooo, Mattie," Alfred said, eyes shining. "Artie can stay?" he pleaded, batting his lashes.

Matthew did not look impressed and merely rolled his eyes. "Don't try that look on me, Alfred. I know you too well. But yes," he agreed with a wary nod. "Since it doesn't appear you have anyone to take care of you..."

"And you can't take care of yourself," Alfred added, merely grinning at Arthur's scowl.

"I'll call a doctor then," Matthew said with a small smile, departing from the room.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence and Alfred eventually broke it by asking, "So, to pass time, wanna do something?"

"Like what?" the elder man murmured tiredly.

"I dunno," Alfred admitted sheepishly, chuckling at Arthur's unimpressed look. "A horror movie? Or, like... a video game or something?" he suggested. "Unless you already know I'll beat you..." he trailed off suggestively, inwardly smirking at the offended glare Arthur shot him.

"Come on, you git," the Englishman said huffily, slowly sitting himself down on the edge of the bed. "Let's play."

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

**Characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

**Okay, people, who should the doctor be? I was thinking Francis, but then I had second thoughts... I'm not too sure. ;n; Please give me a little help here, guys.**

**Also, a few of you have voted RussiaxChina and PolandxLithuania, and one's voted for AustriaxHungary, so those are the prime choices right now. Who should Prussia be with then though? D: I could go with some crack and put him and Seychelles together. XD I'm not sure. We'll see, eh?**

**And I don't usually reply to reviews (not on here, anyway, because it's so much hassle. D: I reply on deviantART, though), but I do read them and they're very helpful, and this time is an exception.**

**To **_**LupinandHarry**_**... ****Tea****. ****Effing****. ****Rocks****. Yes, it's important enough that I actually had to shout this out in my bold section. Also, Remus Lupin and Harry Potter are my two favourite Harry Potter characters! I'm sorry, I had to say this... I just had to.**

**Thanks to all of you for the reviews, they really do mean a lot. Oh, and thanks for the tea and scones, **_**Dark Fairy of Chaos**_**! I enjoyed them very much. How did you manage not to burn them? Mine always turn out crispy and black... In any case, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and stay tuned for the next one! Which number chapter is this one? I'm so forgetful... Without my calendar, I'm doomed. I've been reminded about my age and birthday **_**seven**_** times this week. Anyway, I digress. Please keep reading and reviewing!**

**P.S.: **_**MerryxMaking**_**, I will include our nickname for Germany. As if I could resist.**


	6. Isha, isha!

"Why is it," Arthur began as he repeatedly pushed 'x' on the PlayStation 3 controller. "That all of your games are fighting ones?"

"'Cause they're the most awesome kind of all," Alfred answered easily, and instead of dodging Arthur's attacks he merely countered with his own, getting damage dealt to him that he could have possibly avoided. Whereas he was relying solely on offence, Arthur primarily utilised defense and managed to sneak in sly attacks when Alfred attacked lots of random places, taking risks in hope of finding Arthur's character behind them. "Why?" he asked as he set the sequence for a Kamehameha attack. "What kind of games do _you_ like? If any," he added the last part as an afterthought with a cheeky grin.

Arthur elbowed the caramel-coloured-haired man as he dodged the powerful attack and transported himself behind Alfred's character, giving him a strong punch that sent him plummeting into the ground. The teenager seemed shocked, and he cursed upon realising that his health bar was low, whereas Arthur was still on his first life, and it was almost full. Growling, he entered the code for a Big Bang attack, but missed his target as Arthur had sprung an After Image Attack. He then sent Alfred's character an Arale Kick, which effectively knocked him out.

_Player 2 wins!_ Flashed up on screen, and Alfred gaped and dropped his controller, whilst Arthur smirked smugly.

"H-how did you...?" the American began, eyes wide in incomprehension and horror. "How did you beat _me_?" he squawked.

The dirty-blond shrugged and placed his controller down more gently. "Easily, you have no tactics," he answered. "And as for your earlier question, I like nearly any game. I just have to divert between them or else I get bored." He shrugged and suppressed a yawn.

"I never thought an old man would beat me in a video game," the blue-eyed boy grumbled, earning a thwak from the elder male, who sent him a tired but agitated glare.

"I'm not that old," he muttered.

"How old are you then?" Alfred asked, smirking. _Actually, I did think he seemed kinda young when I first saw him. Not to mention... he's shorter than me..._

"I'm twenty three, actually," the man snapped, folding his arms.

"Twenty three?" It was at this point Alfred recalled Arthur mentioning he had a son and a niece. "How old is your...?" he began, trailing off when he noticed the pained expression on Arthur's face, which was cleverly masked behind an irked sneer.

"My son," he finished with a snort of disgust. He began fiddling with his borrowed pyjamas, unable to meet Alfred's eyes. "He's... he's ten."

"_Ten_?" Alfred repeated, scandalous. "But that means you were..."

"Thirteen, yes," the Englishman intercepted again, voice snipped. He folded his arms angrily, but it appeared to Alfred as a defensive move--like Arthur was hugging himself.

When the American realised that the blond wasn't going to elaborate, he asked curiously, "How old was your girlfriend?"

Arthur's tight grip on his own arms strengthened and he swallowed loudly, resisting the urge to rock back and forth. He knew what an emotional wreck he could become, and he didn't want anyone to see that. Swallowing once again, he said with as much calmness and dignity he could muster, "She was... she was t-twelve." He inwardly cursed himself for stuttering. _Why am I even divulging this? Oh, God, I'm disgusting. It's despicable. I'm... Oh, Lord..._ He was vaguely aware of Alfred's voice somewhere in the background but he could only remember... Well, that was just it. He couldn't actually remember doing _it_... but he could recall...

_"You vile child! You got a girl pregnant! You're both far too young... How could you do this? I thought we raised you well! You... you're disgusting! Get out of my sight!"_

"Arthur! Hey, Arthur! Snap out of it!"

The Englishman's eyes widened and snapped up to meet Alfred's panicked and confused gaze, and then jerked away as if burnt.

"Arthur...?" Alfred began. He was confused but he could see how much pain was lingering within those green depths. He just didn't know what to do about it.

"I... I apologise," the blond said tersely, obviously tense. "I... I shouldn't... I shouldn't have shared this with you. I don't know what came over me," he admitted. "I think it's best if I go..."

"You aren't going anywhere," a new voice interjected, and they both looked up to see Matthew standing there with a stony glare on his features. "We've been through this, eh?" he said with a decisive nod. "You're too ill to leave." He then glanced at Alfred before looking at Arthur again, and then he shrugged. Arthur turned to Alfred, raising a brow, but the American appeared as baffled as he was. "Oh," the Canadian began again. "The doctor is coming around tomorrow morning. Is that all right?"

"Um..." Arthur began, inwardly panicking. "I-I'd not want to intrude..."

"Too bad, 'cause you kinda have to," Alfred replied with a grin, which only widened when Arthur scowled at him. "Soo," he said. "You wanna play another game?"

Arthur inwardly groaned, too tired to play another game. Besides, his entire body _ached_.

Taking pity on the Englishman, Matthew said, "How about we watch a movie or something?" He smiled weakly when Arthur radiated gratitude.

"Oh, awesome!" Alfred declared brightly, as if it were his idea. "What movie should we watch? Superman? Spiderman? The Matrix? I don't really get that one, but you know." He grinned.

Neither Matthew nor Arthur looked impressed, and both of them just grunted, "No," making Alfred pout childishly and mutter about 'Boring old folks.'

"What movies do _you_ like, Arthur?" Matthew asked politely with a rather timid smile as he hugged his Kumajirou backpack.

Arthur blinked in surprise before flushing. "Oh, erm," he began awkwardly. "I like _Harry Potter_."

"Typical," Alfred said, snorting.

"Oh, shut up," the Englishman snapped, blushing. "It's an excellent story!"

"It's British."

"Oh, well done, detective! How did you figure that one out? Did you do it all by yourself?"

"No shit, Sherlock! And I don't like how what's-her-name ends up with that redheaded guy. The hero is always supposed to get the girl!"

"Oh, for Pete's sake! You don't even know the _names_ of the characters? And for goodness sake, Rowling built up Ron's and Hermione's relationship like that throughout the series! Can't say the same for Harry and Ginny, unfortunately..."

"Speaking of which, the epilogue _sucked_!"

"W-what? Well, as if the American _Twilight_ series is better!"

"Oh, you went _there_? Well--"

"Ahem," Matthew cleared this throat (for the fifth time), and both men turned to him in surprise as if they had forgotten he was there. Both flushed slightly, one more than the other. "I happen to think _Harry Potter_ is a great movie." He smiled, and Arthur returned it with a hesitant smile of his own, and he then nodded fervently.

"Of course," he insisted.

"So, it's settled then," Matthew said. _Thankfully_, he added silently, sighing in relief as Alfred steered the dizzy Arthur to the sofa.

"Which one?" Alfred asked in his own attempt of chivalry.

"Oh." Arthur blinked in surprise, amazed that the boy had asked. "The first one. The _Philosopher's Stone_."

Alfred nodded and stuffed it in, and then flopped next to Arthur, unconsciously weaving his arm around the shorter man's shoulders.

Matthew watched in awe. _They get embarrassed in arguments and yet are obvlious in these situations? Oh, Jesus Christ..._ he thought with a shake of his head and sat down next to Alfred in a much quieter fashion than his brother had displayed, much to Arthur's relief.

Throughout the movie, Alfred and Arthur had many disagreements about how certain scenes should have gone, or that they were good as they were, and even insulted each other by choosing Houses for each other. However, only half way through the movie, Arthur's exhaustion had overwhelmed him and he fell asleep on Alfred's shoulder. Matthew pretended not to see but he had tried so hard not to laugh when his brother blushed. He was rather surprised when Alfred didn't shove the Englishman off, and even more stunned when the American had rested his head on top of Arthur's.

Thinking back on it, he supposed he should have taken a picture... for black mail purposes.

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

"Arthur! Arthur, wake up," Alfred ordered, shaking the older man, who merely groaned in response.

"Wha' 's i'?" the blond slurred, opening one eye and glaring weakly up at the American, and Alfred instantly noted that Arthur wasn't a morning person.

"The doctor's gonna be here in about five minutes," the caramel-haired boy informed him with a shrug. "I thought you'd wanna be conscious for it." He grinned.

"Urgh," Arthur groaned, sitting up and stretching, only to wince at his aching muscles.

"You okay?" Alfred asked, noticing the grimace.

"Yeah. I'm all right," Arthur assured him with a nod, squirming at the pains in his back.

The blue-eyed boy didn't believe him but shrugged anyway. "'Kay, if you say so," he said, and blinked when the doorbell rang. "Huh. He's a few minutes early."

"I'll get it," Matthew said, the only one who was actually properly awake. He had agreed to stay until Arthur could go home, so he could help out. Opening the door, he offered the doctor a welcoming smile. "Thanks for coming." He offered his hand.

The brunet man smiled nervously in response and shook back. "My pleasure," he said quietly, eyes darting around a bit before his green eyes locked back onto Matthew's blue ones. "Um... so, who am I treating?" he asked. "No name was supplied. I was just told that a young man was ill..." he trailed off.

"Oh! I'm sorry. We were kind of surprised ourselves," the Canadian said apologetically, and held the door open for the doctor to enter. "It's Arthur... erm..." He turned to Arthur, realising he was unaware of his last name.

"Kirkland," the American supplied for him as he helped Arthur sit up.

The brunet doctor stilled for a moment, his eyes widening, before he bit his lip and nodded, and approached the Englishman. He opened his medical kit and got out a few supplies. "I'm sure you know the procedure," he said. "Could you unbutton your shirt, please?" he asked, glancing away as the blond fumbled to do as he said. When he was done, he placed the stethoscope against the pale skin, and Arthur shivered at the coldness. "Breathe in. Good. And breathe out. Yes... breathe in again..."

After the medical exmination--which, to Arthur's dismay and Alfred's amusement, lasted for about thirty five minutes after the doctor had discovered Arthur's records and found that had hadn't been for a check-up a few years--the doctor perscribed two bottles of pills and said to call if they needed more--he gave Matthew the number because he thought the other two stood a chance of losing it--and bid them farewell.

"Wouldn't you like to stay for some tea or coffee, um...?" Matthew trailed off, and the brunet stiffened momentarily.

"T-Toris," he answered quietly. "Toris Lorinaitis."

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

"How was your mission, Toris?"

The addressed brunet jerked, and glanced to his side to see a certain platinum blond. He smiled weakly. "Raivis," he said nervously. "I was surprised... I hadn't known it was Arthur Kirkland." He paused. "Do you suppose Mr. Braginski knew?" he asked, swallowing.

When Toris had said that name, Raivis's usual shakes began again. The brunet felt bad for the teenager and his violent tremours, not to mention how badly the boy's mind was affected by the Russian man's manipulative and evil nature.

"Of course he knew," Raivis spat, twitching spasmodically. "He's _Braginski_. He knows everything," he hissed and grabbed his wallet. "Would you like a drink?" he asked shakily, and Toris knew that he was about to partake in some alcohol. That boy was an alcoholic at only fifteen. It was sad what Ivan could do to someone.

"No, thank you," he declined gently.

"Suit yourself." The boy left jerkily to go and purchase some beer, leaving the brunet sitting at the back of the bar alone, lying in wait.

"Toris," a deep, slightly arrogant-sounding voice greeted, and the addressed brunet looked up in horror before he smiled in relief.

"E-Eduard," he said softly. "How are you? And what are you doing here?" he asked.

"Is it not obvious?" the Baltic man remarked, adjusting his glasses and rolling his eyes behind them. "Braginski ordered it. I, however, am not going to take any crap he throws at us." He shook his head. "Tormenting and manipulating people is utterly wrong, and Raivis is merely fifteen."

"You're seventeen," Toris reminded him gently, thinking that Eduard acted much older than he really was.

"Quite," the blond replied as if Toris had just proved his point. "And I heard what Raivis said about your 'mission'." He quirked a brow. "What was it?"

Toris shifted uncomfortably. "Mr. Braginski asked me to--" He paused here when the other man snorted. "H-he asked me to utilise my medical skills and give someone a check up."

"I trust this was for his own benefit?"

"Mm," Toris agreed reluctantly. "It-it was Arthur Kirkland..."

"Revealing my plans, Toris? That deserves punishment. Kolkolkol..."

Toris stiffened visibly, sucking in a breath and sitting up straight. His eyes were wide and he had paled dramatically when the Russian placed a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Don't be a bully, Braginski!" Eduard chided angrily, standing quickly enough to knock his chair over. He met Ivan's gaze unwaveringly, fists clenched in spite of the calm facade Ivan had on.

The Russian's blue-violet eyes glinted and Eduard almost faltered for a moment but hid any fear well. Ivan masked his emotions behind a feigned innocent smile. "Bully?" he asked with a chuckle that sent shivers down Toris's spine. "I can assure you, I am simply a humble business man."

"With the heart of a killer," Eduard added under his breath, steeling himself when Ivan twitched.

"Eduard, you shall report to my room later for punishment," he said airily, amazingly masking his pent-up fury. "Ah!" he exclaimed, and Toris practically jumped into the air. "I didn't know Raivis was here. I shall go and say hello. Oh, and Toris..." He turned to the fearful brunet with a creepy smile. "Let me know all there is to know about our old friend Arthur Kirkland." With that, he glided over to Raivis, leaving Toris and Eduard to their private but shared fears.

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

**Characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

**At the beginning, America and England were playing-- actually, can any of you guys guess? The attacks pretty much give it away.**

**Admittedly, I was going to have France be the doctor, but many of you wanted Russia. I then devised a plan in which Lithuania was involved, so that Ivan could come in sooner. You shall soon comprehend more about this, i.e. what happened to China and why, and so on.**

**Please review! And thanks again for the scones and tea. They were very enjoyable. -**_**smiles**_**- So, thank you for reading thus far and for your reviews. Stay tuned!**


	7. Iie to ieru!

"I didn't know you had a fear of _doctors_, Arthur."

The aforementioned man's head jerked up to meet amused sky-blue eyes and he mustered the most threatening glare he could which, in this situation, was not very threatening. In fact, judging by how Alfred's laughter merely increased, he was only serving to entertain the teenager even more.

"I am _not_ afraid of doctors, Jones," Arthur drawled with as much dignity he could muster, and folded his arms defensively.

"Aw, call me Alfred. You don't call your friends by their surnames!" the American declared with a boisterous laugh, making the blond halt.

Arthur stared up at him with something akin to awe in his expression. "F-friends?" he practically whispered, any cynical or negative emotions departing from his eyes. At that point, Alfred thought that the green-eyed man looked a lot like a child.

"Yeah, of course," Alfred confirmed, smiling with surprising gentleness instead of a smirk or grin. He ruffled Arthur's hair, laughing again when the man batted his hand away. "You know, you have really messy hair..." he observed as he ran his fingers through it. It was amazingly soft for such a bedraggled style.

"You sound like Bonnefoy," the Englishman muttered darkly, glaring at nothing in particular.

"What do you mean?" Alfred asked, blinking in confusion. "How am I like Francis?" he exclaimed, slightly insulted, but became rather entertained when the elder man pouted.

"He used to make fun of me too. Especially my hair," he mumbled sulkily, his scowl deepening.

"Speaking of which," the caramel-haired man began, gazing at Arthur in befuddlement. "How do you guys know each other?" He raised an inquisitive brow when the shorter man tensed again. _Wow. He gets nervous real easily_, he mused.

"That, Jones, is none of your business," Arthur snapped testily, his breathing pattern more erratic than before.

Alfred frowned, curiousity peaked by the elder man's behaviour. _He's definitely hiding something..._ He opened his mouth to speak again, but was interrupted when Matthew entered the room with a glass of water and a jar or perscribed medicine.

"Now, Arthur," the Canadian began as he got out two of the pills. "You're supposed to take two of these every morning and every night for a week," he said, handing Arthur the water and the pills. The man accepted them with great reluctance. "So, go on, this is your first dose," he prompted with a slightly impatient nod.

The blond stared at the two pills with an expression of mistrust and disgust. "I don't want them," he mumbled decisively, slamming the pills and water down on the table and folding his arms.

"E-eh?" Matthew squeaked. He didn't think he would have trouble making an adult take their medicine, and he wasn't too sure what to do about it. "A-Arthur..." he murmured weakly, uncertain about what to do.

"You're hopeless, Mattie," his brother finally declared, and both Matthew and Arthur turned to him expectantly. "In these situations, it's a matter of force, y' see," he explained, grinning.

Arthur's eyes glinted challengingly. "You will never make me take those," he said, gesturing to his pills.

"Oh, but I will," Alfred countered, speedily grabbing the pills and shoving them in his mouth.

"A-Alfred!" Matthew exclaimed, nerves frazzled. _It might effect him badly if he didn't need it! You idiot, Alfred!_ He thought in panic, but froze and paled when his brother grabbed Arthur's jaw and shoved their lips together**(1)**.

Arthur halted too, his green eyes a lot wider than usual, and his body tense. He stared imploringly into Alfred's eyes when their lips collided, and gasped when the American's tongue probed at his lips. Unwillingly, he parted them, and the caramel-haired man's tongue delved into his mouth... and then pulled right away. Alfred groaned in disgust and drunk the water. "Ew," he said, shuddering. "I can't believe I kissed a guy. That's disgusting," he hissed, actually feeling sick.

It was at that point Arthur snapped out of his astonishment and tasted the vile pills. He swallowed them on impulse and flared crimson. "Wh-what was that about?" he demanded, eyes flashing with fury.

"We had to get the medicine in you somehow," the younger man answered with a shrug, still appearing slightly green at the fact he had locked lips with another male.

"And so you kissed me?" Arthur shouted in embarrassment, but fell back against the sofa when Alfred slammed his fists against the table and stood. The Englishman actually feared for his life for a moment when he witnessed the pure revulsion and hatred in those now-darkened eyes, and he shivered when Alfred spoke next.

"Don't... ever... insinuate... that I am one of _them_!"

He then stormed out of the apartment, the door slamming so hard behind him that a picture fell off of the wall.

Arthur remained locked in his seat, still disturbed by what he had just seen. Slowly, his wide-eyed gaze turned to Alfred's twin, and the boy smiled ruefully at him.

"I'm really sorry you had to see that, Arthur," he apologised quietly, and began fiddling with his Kumajirou backpack. "Y-you see..." He sighed softly. "Well, I'm probably... I probably shouldn't be telling you this..."

Taking pity on the boy, Arthur ventured out and said, "I might be able to help him." Matthew's head jerked up and he felt so much pity for the boy when he saw the hopeful look in his eyes, but he squashed that feeling down and forced a smile for his benefit. "I'm a qualified therapist," he verified.

Matthew blinked and flushed. "Oh," he said, sounding awkward. "Alfred... albeit unwilling... already contacted a therapy agency."

Arthur couldn't help but feel defensive. The agency _he_ worked at was the best in Europe, and, all across the world, shareholders were using their company. Kiku's brother was the mastermind behind it, and he wouldn't let anyone take Kiku or his family for granted, even if it wasn't intended to be offensive. "I can assure you," he drawled with a scowl, inwardly wondering why his heartbeat was still so erratic. He still felt that chilling gaze and resisted the urge to shudder. He shook it off, dismissing Matthew's concern. "Our agency is proclaimed to be one of the best. We're ranked in the top ten world-wide, second best in fact," he proclaimed pridefully, but this made him recall Kiku. How much he was crying... how much pain he was in. Arthur felt a flash of empathy, closing his eyes for a moment to contemplate upon it, before releasing a shaky sigh.

"That's amazing," Matthew breathed, and Arthur glanced at him quickly, having forgotten he was there for a moment. "Maybe... maybe I can persuade him to--"

"I'll do it," Arthur said, brushing off the Canadian's incredulous stare. "I'm... experienced. I was unprepared there," he explained. "Al-- your brother just seemed so... bright. So happy. But I can help him," he said with a nod. "I will do my best to cure him." He met Matthew's hazy blue eyes. "I give you my word."

There was a moment of profound silence, both staring at each other in silent agreement, before Matthew did something Arthur hadn't anticipated and glomped the shorter man.

"Thank you, Arthur!" he shouted happily, and Arthur didn't have the heart to push the hopeful boy off of him. "Thank you."

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

The park was full of children's laughter that day. It was rather sunny, so he should have expected children and their families would be happily playing outside. Most of the park was filled. Several families were having picknicks, children on the swingset being pushed by their mothers and fathers, children sliding on the slides and giggling on the see-saw. The was a football match in the field, away from the chatting families who were eating and laughing, and it seemed to be a boys vs. girls match. The young boy didn't seem happy whereas the girl was giggling sheepishly and happily, so it was easy to judge who was winning the match.

Away from it all in a sunny but dull area sat Alfred, munching on a burger he had purchased down the street and sipping on his free soda. As he ate and drank, he watched the families with a wistful air about him, sighing distractedly a few times and smiling in anguish when he saw children being hugged by their parents. _I wish I'd had love like that_, he thought sadly, and then shook the thought off by stuffing the rest of his burger in his mouth.

"Dwelling, mon cher?" a familiar voice asked, and Alfred looked up to see Francis leaning on the back of the bench behind him.

"Francis," he aknowledged in surprise, blinking a few times. "What're you doing here?" He made a face. "Stalking me?"

Francis gasped in faux offense, holding a hand over his heart. "Oh, you wound me so, Alfred!" he exclaimed dramatically, ignoring the roll of eyes he received in response.

"What do you want?" the American muttered, sipping his soda.

"Can I not just innocently visit the park?" the man enquired as he took a seat next to the caramel-haired man.

"Nothing you do is innocent," Alfred pointed out, sucking any remains of his soda and then disposing of it in the bin next to him. "So, what is it?" he demanded with a reproachful glare.

"Oh, mon cher, you saw right through me," the main wailed, but regained his composure and actually took on a serious expression as he, too, gazed out at the happy families. It looked as if they were trapped, staring through a window at what they could never obtain. "Arthur Kirkland," he muttered, and Alfred stiffened. "He was with you a couple of nights ago." He turned to Alfred with a steely but emotionless look. "Why?"

"I dunno," Alfred admitted, running a hand through his hair. "I... I just... just..." He sighed and turned away. "He was drunk..."

"He has not changed much then, eh?" the man questioned rhetorically, laughing, but the sound was melancholic at best.

"How do you know him?" Alfred hastened to ask, and the French man silenced for a while. "I mean," he elaborated. "When I asked him, he just... he brushed me off."

"Arthur," Francis began, as if dismissing Alfred's question, but the teenager listened anyway. "Is difficult to understand. He usually means the opposite of what he says, and he's always acting a certain way, but for what reason I cannot fathom," he admitted sardonically, closing his eyes for a brief moment. "He is an unusual man, and... it would probably be best if you did not get involved with him."

Alfred blanched. A few memories suddenly flooded back to him - how he helped Arthur at the bar, how Arthur shouted at the French man to defend some girl's honour--some girl he apparently used to like--how he fainted in his arms, how his sleeping face looked, how he beat him on the PlayStation 3, how he fell asleep against him and he did too, how he blushed and shivered when he had to remove his shirt...

The American rapidly shook his eyes, his own cheeks pinking at the last memory. He turned to Francis with a frown. "He's my friend now!" he declared. "I can't just abandon him!"

"You do not understand," Francis said dully. "He is hiding things. Things you cannot imagine..."

"Like his kid?" Alfred actually felt an odd sense of satisfaction when Francis's eyes widened in astonishment and horror.

"How did you...?"

"He told me," Alfred informed him easily. "But you telling me this... that he's hiding things... just makes me wanna know more."

Francis stared at him for a moment, flabbergasted, before sighing and shaking his head. "You are too young. You should not be involved in this," he grumbled wearily. He sighed again and stood, brushing off his trousers. "Do not say that I did not warn you." With that, he gave a feeble excuse for a wave and walked down the dusty pathway to depart from the park, stopping to flirt with a few people on the way.

The blue-eyed boy just made a face when he saw all the people he flirted with--men, even!--before groaning in confusion and heading off to the nearest bar for a drink.

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

Toris spared Raivis a glance, concern growing when he noticed that the boy's violent, body-wracking tremours had increased. Toris himself had offered to sit next to Ivan to calm the boy a bit but it hadn't worked. _Although_, he thought, slightly disturbed. _My actions seemed to have pleased Mr. Braginski..._ At this thought, he glanced up, feeling cold when he noticed the Russian smiling down at him. He shuddered when he felt Ivan's hand sneak around his shoulders.

Eduard, noticing his friend's discomfort, was quick to say, "Shall we get on with the discussion then?" He levelled Ivan a steady glare, to which the platinum-blond smiled serenely.

"Of course," he said, and turned to the brunet next to him. "So, Toris?" he prompted brightly but with an air of intimidating superiority about him. "How was our English friend?"

Swallowing, the brunet said weakly, "H-he's ill at the moment..." He winced when he felt the hand on his shoulder tighten.

"Now, Toris," the Russian said softly, creepily. "You know that is not what I meant..."

Toris swallowed again. He nodded shakily. "He-he still acts as he did when you... when you dealt with him..."

"Ah, excellent!" Ivan said brightly, smiling. "Our efforts did not go to waste," he said happily. "Next," he began, lavender eyes darting to Raivis's violet ones, and the fifteen-year-old shivered visibly. "Raivis, you are going to pay your young friend Peter a visit," he declared with a smile. "You can't say I don't allow you to have fun." He chuckled, which made his three companions stiffen, even Eduard.

"Y-yes," Raivis agreed readily. "Of course, Mr. Braginski," he muttered.

"Good, good..."

As they began drinking--mainly Ivan who had ordered various shots of vodka, of which his companions were reluctant about. A sober Ivan was bad enough--a young man enetered the pub and marched right up to the bar. "Hey," he greeted easily.

"Ah!" a dark-skinned man shouted with a grin. "If it ain't Prince Charming," he said cheekily. "Where's Princess Pretty-Boy?" he enquired, mocking looking around for Arthur.

Alfred rolled his eyes. "Just get me a coke," he said, and sighed exaggeratedly when the Cuban man didn't make a move to do so. "_Please_," he added with a huff.

"That's better," the man said with a grin. "Oiii, Heracles!" he called loudly, and the other man from last time appeared, still looking sleepy. "Get Prince Charming a coke," he ordered, and the turquoise-eyed man nodded in response, grabbing a bottle from a higher shelf and slinging it to Alfred, who nodded his thanks. "So, Heracles," the Cuban said, and the sleepy man glanced at him. "I haven't seen your little Japanese friend in a while. Where is 'e?"

Heracles actually looked worried here. "I'm not sure," he admitted quietly. "He won't answer the phone... I've left many messages now." He took on an agitated look. "I even... I even asked _that_ guy to call him, but Kiku didn't answer him either..."

"You went so far as to ask Sadiq?" the Cuban asked with a snort of laughter. "You really care for the--what's his word?--Chibi."

The Greek man smiled. "I like Kiku," he confessed bluntly, and Alfred's eyes widened in surprise. Did that guy just openly admit to being gay? That was... well, he found it revolting. But... seeing the pure delight and devotion in those murky green depths of the man's eyes... he made it look beautiful.

As if only just realising what he had thought, the caramel-haired boy downed his coke and slammed the bottle down, this time ordering a pint of beer.

_Don't _ever_ think that again. They're disgusting. Remember father. He was right. He was... he was always right..._

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

**Characters belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

**(1) Alfred, in spite of being a homophobic at the present in this fic, thought that Arthur's need for medicine and recovery outweighed his prejudice... and he doesn't want to admit that he secretly liked snogging the Brit. ;3**

**There's lots of GiriPan (GreecexJapan) and possibly the beginning of FrancexCanada in the next chapter, and some violence... but there's always violence in my stories! (Yes, that is something I am proud of.)**

**Thank you for the reviews thus far. I am very grateful; I appreciate them very much, and thanks to all the peopled who added **_**Tengoku ni Ochiru**_** to their favourite stories/story alert lists. I'm very glad you like it. Now, back to reading until tomorrow... :3**

**Oh, and it's not too late to vote on pairings. I'm still not sure who to pair Russia with. China, Liet, or Prussia. I have a couple of votes for China and Prussia at the moment (poor Liet is unloved! Oh, I'm joking. He has Poland! I bet he's grateful that he won't be with Russia. XD Poor guy). Just so you guys know, if Russia and China are paired up, Prussia and Austria shall compete for Hungary's affections... or they can just have a managé a trois... Ahem. Also, in contrast, if Russia and Prussia are paired up, China shall be with Korea and Hungary with Austria. Wow, that was a mouthful...**

**Happy reading! -**_**throws Harry Potter copies into the crowd**_**-**


	8. Tatakau jibun jishin!

The sound of steady beeping filled the room and the sole conscious occupant stared into his elder brother's face, any emotions masked behind an apathetic frown. Inwardly, he was facing a whirlwind of various emotions, so much so that he was outwardly trembling. He didn't notice that he was shaking, however, too focused on his churning thoughts. Staring into his brother's face, he couldn't help but feel it was his fault. He knew it was stupid to blame himself, and he wasn't one to let go of his emotions, but he couldn't help it. He recalled the argument he had with his brother a few years ago. They had never really talked to each other properly after that, and when they did, Kiku hardly said anything and Yao had always been too busy to talk long; always on one trip or another.

As their previous argument sprung to mind, Kiku felt a flash of guilt. His brother had always been there for him, always helped him and looked out for the family, but he went away a lot too. He remembered how hurt Yao looked when he had told him as much, and he could remember Meimei crying against Michael in the background. At these horrible memories, he squeezed Yao's hand for comfort.

Kiku swallowed thickly, choking on a sob. He didn't bother wiping his eyes but sat there and continued staring at his silent brother's pale face. Opening his trembling lips, he whispered, "I'm so sorry, aniki... This is all my fault..." If he weren't so good at controlling his emotions, he would have buried his head in the bed sheets and cried. He knew not to, however, and so he just continued staring blankly as tears cascaded down his face. "I... have never been good at... discussing personal things. And I know I hurt you, aniki, but... I just hope you know that... you mean a lot to me." He flushed slightly, a bit embarrassed and divulging that, but was rewarded with a small squeeze back. His eyes darted to his and his brother's intertwined hands to see Yao's fingers twitching slightly. "Aniki..." he said softly with a tearful smile. "Please rest. I will be right here when you wake up."

He felt rather excited when Yao shifted slightly and then seemed to fall deeply into slumber. Heaving another sob, he realised that Yao must have forgiven him. Smilinlg through his tears, he whispered, "Thank you, aniki."

He jerked suddenly when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Blinking down at the keychain-covered phone, he noticed the name of the person calling and rushed to click 'answer'. "H-Heracles-san," he murmured quietly.

"Kiku... you sound upset. Has something happened?" the Greek man asked instantly, getting straight to the point.

The dark-haired man smiled softly. "I'm okay now, Heracles-san," he replied. "But thank you for your concern."

There was a pause, and then, "Where are you?"

"What...?" Kiku blinked. "I'm... at the hospital. But I'm all right," he assurred him hastily before he could jump to conclusions. "My brother... He was injured in a car collision the other day..."

"Why didn't you call me?" Heracles demanded, and Japan winced at the anger in his voice. Heracles usually sounded dreamy. He was only angry when someone mentioned Sadiq.

"I'm... I'm sorry," Kiku mumbled, trying to hide his nervousness. "I just... thought it was unimportant..."

"Kiku." The addressed man cringed at the seriousness in his friend's voice. "You're my best friend. Nothing that happens to you is unimportant. No matter what, you can and should always call me. Friends are meant to be there for each other."

The Japanese man felt a smile tugging at his lips for the first time in so long. "Thank you."

"You don't thank people for friendship," Heracles replied fondly. "Now, where are you? I'll head there now."

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

This was another reason Arthur had wanted to go home - awkward silence.

He and Matthew were sitting in the living room with a can of pop and a cup of now-cold tea in front of them. They were staring at the television but not really taking anything in. A buzzing sound erupted from near the door and Matthew murmured, "Doorbell," and stood up to answer. As they were in flats, Matthew had to unlock the front door. He seemed to be talking frantically into the box, but Arthur wasn't listening. When he had noticed the news had come on, he started paying attention to the television.

"Good evening. This is the news at ten o'clock. We have reports of a car accident yesterday at precisely eight o'clock in the evening. The man driving the car has been reported dead with severe head injuries, and various fractures and broken bones. Oddly enough, the paramedics, when checking him over, found a multitude of scars, many of which deep. The auhorities are currently studying this man, and trying to locate his identity.

"The car he was driving was GAZ-3106 Ataman-2 concept SUV. There was no license plate and so the authorities, thus far, remain utterly stumped. However, the victim of the accident is one Wang Yao..."

At this, Arthur jumped. He recalled Kiku mentioning his brother being in an accident. He instantly felt his heart lurch as he remembered how distraught Kiku was. Swallowing, he tried to focus on the television. He didn't hear the door slam.

"He is currently reported as stabilised and in hospital, but there has been no word of which hospital he is currently staying at. It seems the only way for the police to find out about this case is to interview Wang Yao. However, they cannot do that until they find out where he is residing. If you have any information, please contact..."

There, Arthur tuned out, staring blankly at the telly as he absorbed the given information. He fisted his trousers as he thought of Kiku crying. He hated when his friends were hurting and, even though he tried, he knew he didn't make Kiku feel better. He was never good at comforting people, which was odd considering he was a therapist. Sure, he could cure them, but he didn't do it with empty promises of, "It's going to be all right," because he knew nothing was ever okay; no one ever got a happy ending.

He was pulled out of his reverie when he heard shouting, and looked up to see Matthew and Alfred making animated gestures at one another. The volume then set in and he winced when he heard their shouts.

"You're drunk! Alfred, what the fuck? You... you swore you'd never drink! You said you wouldn't be like him--"

Arthur's eyes widened in surprise when Alfred threw a punch at his brother, and at that point he jumped up and grabbed the elder brother's fist before he could land another punch. Matthew had stumbled back, grasping his nose and looking horrified. Silence ensued for a moment before Matthew's eyes filled with tears, he yanked open the door and dashed out of the apartment before anyone could say anything. Alfred and Arthur were left standing there, one still clutching onto the other's arm as he stared out of the door.

Alred recovered first and yanked his arm out of Arthur's grip. He then turned to walk away but the Englishman grabbed his arm again. If Arthur was phased by the threatening glare he got, he didn't show it.

"Let go of me," Alfred muttered, and Arthur now heard the slurred tone in his voice. He wouldn't lecture the brat about alcohol; he got drunk often enough to think Andrew Lloyd Webber was a hot chick in Vegas or something.

"No," Arthur said, his voice hard. "Do you not even care that you just hurt your brother? I know there was something there, he said you were acting like 'him'." Arthur noticed that Alfred flinched and stored that away for future reference. "You obviously hurt him..."

"Shut the hell up!" the American shouted, eyes burning. He yanked his arm out of Arthur's grasp again and shoved him against the wall. The Englishman winced; he didn't realise Alfred was so strong - he was sure his back would bruise. "You don't know _anything_ about me!"

"You're right," Arthur lamented, scowling. "But, whether you like it or not, I'm going to get to know you, and I'm going to make you get over your teenage angst--" He winced when Alfred shoved him against the wall again, and blinked the stars out of his vision when he hit his head.

"Just stay out of my life," the American whispered threateningly, his eyes glinting...

And then he shoved his lips against Arthur's.

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

**Characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

**Sorry this one is so short! I just thought it would be an appropriate place to end this chapter. Next: More GuriPan, some SuFin, USxUK, and Franada! I'm so excited, and I just can't hide it--**

*****_**coughs**_*** D-do excuse me... whilst I wallow in shame...**

**And still, guys, come on, I need more votes for the pairings! RussiaxChina, RussiaxPrussia, RussiaxLiet, etcetera... Go on the previous chapter to view all.**

**Please review. Thank you all.**


	9. Nani o shimasi ka!

The faint buzzing of the television was the only sound that filled Francis's apartment that night. He still wasn't feeling that same spark he had when he was with Michelle. She seemed to be different to others, and at first, admittedly, he did just want her to satisfy himself, but when he had made that clear she had smacked him into next week and told him he could "piss off" if that was all he wanted.

Remembering her fiery personality and spunky attitude, Francis sniggered a bit, taking another swig of the Chapel Down Brut Rose NV**(1)** wine he had sitting on the table before him. He stared down at the salmon-coloured liquid and frowned. "English wine..." he murmured thickly, closing his eyes as emotions ran through him and memories fogged his brain. "I remember... when Arthur gave this to me..."

_They had been sitting there for nearly twenty minutes now. Both knew that they had to speak eventually, but it was difficult for both of them. Francis was the eldest; he knew he should take the initiative. He usually did, in fact. But today... it was just too hard. His throat hurt as he struggled to keep his emotions in check, and he was astonished that he felt so distraught about this. He couldn't help but feel bitterness towards Arthur. The aforementioned was just staring deeply into his cold tea with a blank expression._

It isn't fair,_ the French man thought angrily, scowling at the expressionless figure next to him. _He doesn't seem to care at all that he is breaking my heart.__

"Francis..." the blond finally began, not raising his eyes from his cold beverage. "I... want to break up." He sounded firm, but he had closed his eyes and clenched the fabric of his trousers under the table. Francis had noticed, but he had been feeling too furious and betrayed to take it into account.

"Why?" he demanded instantly after the Englishman had said it.

Arthur turned away. "You know why," he muttered bitterly but softly.

The other blond glared at him. "Non," he disagreed. "Je ne pas."

"We're in England, you twat," Arthur reprimanded him, then started in surprise after he had said it. Sighing, he turned to face Francis, and the French man was astonished to see green eyes full of tears... but they didn't fall. In fact, in all the years Francis and Arthur had been together, he had never seen him cry... "You do know," he continued, forcing a glare onto his features, which were even paler than usual. Arthur sighed. "You've been with other people whilst we were together... even Michelle..."

Francis felt a pang at this. He couldn't deny it as it was, indeed, true. Arthur just didn't want sex like Francis did so often, so he did lots of things that, admittedly, he was not proud of. He felt even more guilt upon realising that Arthur knew of his affections towards Michelle. The Englishman had liked her ever since the beginning of high school, but he wasn't much with first impressions and hid all of his good traits behind his terrible temper, and Michelle wasn't impressed by him and his issues._**(2)**___

"So... since we obviously don't... love..." Arthur seemed to almost choke on the word 'love'. Francis, at first, wanted to joke about it, but he realised how hard it was for Arthur as well as himself, so he remained silent. "Eachother," the blond finally coughed out, trying hard to keep his gaze steady. "I think we should break up." He reached for Francis's hand but backtracked and pulled back quickly, much to the French man's displeasure. "You know it's the right thing to do." He smiled weakly. "Besides... this way, you can be with the one you like without concequence... Michelle will probably destroy you if she knew you were seeing me at the same time as her."

With that said, Arthur stood up and left silently, and Francis just watched him as he departed for the last time as his lover. The next time they saw each other... everything would be different...

Francis was startled out of his reverie by the doorbell ringing multiple times, and loud knocks on his door. Sighing in resignition, Francis pushed himself up and went to open the door. "'Ello. 'Ow can I 'elp...?" he trailed off, astonished when he saw a dejected strawberry blond standing there looking utterly dejected and exhausted. "Matthieu?" he exclaimed in surprise, and sucked in a sharp breath when he noticed the bruising on his cheek. Instantly, his mood sobered even more. He put his arm around the young man and gently guided him to the sofa, kicking the door shut.

Matthew practically collapsed onto Francis's sofa, and as soon as Francis sat next to him, he buried his head into the elder man's chest and sobbed.

Sighing for the umpteenth time at evening, Francis remained silent as he sat, in a smbre mood, stroking Matthew's hair.

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

It happened so fast. First, his lips were connected against Arthur's, pressing hard against them, enough to bruise each others lips, his tongue delving into the Englishman's mouth harshly, almost choking the shorter man, his hands clasped tightly and firmly around the blond man's upper arms in a death grip, but his own eyes were clenched shut. He didn't know why he was doing it himself. He wasn't so drunk off his ass he didn't know what was going on; he remained sober enough to walk and not have to throw up, but he just had a sudden impulse to lock lips with Arthur. For what reason, he didn't know, but what he did know was that when they first touched lips, he had felt... something... that he hadn't felt since his mother was alive... but he didn't understand it.

Anyway, the next minute, he had somehow been shoved away, stumbling backwards, in a surprising amount of strength on Arthur's part, who was panting furiously, fists clenched, eyes full of rage, flushed with anger, and a passing thought of Alfred's ashamed part of him, but he couldn't help it. He thought the man was damn sexy when he was angry like that... _What'd it be like if he were underneath me?_ He wondered before hastily squashing that thought.

"You're despicable," Arthur spat before pushing past him roughly and departing from the house, looking back at him in disgust. "Hypocritial fucking wanker!"

And he slammed the door, and Alfred just stared at it for a few minutes as his anger slowly depleted, and he sunk to the floor, glaring bitterly at it and tears pooled in his eyes and he sobbed, punching the floor. "Why, damn it?" he hissed as tears spilled down his face. "Why did you do this to me, dad?" he screamed.

But he didn't receive an answer.

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

_It was always so dark... and he didn't like being alone. He was always here in the same position; in the middle of the darkness, curled up and hugging his knees. He hated it. He was so alone, and it was utterly terrifying. He didn't often show fear but here, in this deep abyss, he a petrified._

But, suddenly, unlike any other time he was here, a light filtered down from above, and a voice that sounded smooth like silk whispered, "Wake up... Kiku, wake up..."

"Kiku?"

"What...?" the lithe Japanese man responded tiredly. Blinking, he turned to see his friend's, Heracles, face right next to his. He immediately flushed deep red and pulled away, only to fall out of his chair. "O-ouch..." he groaned, wincing slightly. He blinked in surprise when he saw a hand extended towards him, and blushed again upon seeing Heracles's amused but concerned face.

"Are you okay?" the Greek man asked, pulling Kiku up, and a bit too much as the dark-haired man fell against his chest. Kiku tried to pull away but Heracles kept him tight in his arms, but not tight enough to hurt. Embarrassed, he looked downwards to avoid much more humiliation, but it appeared fate wanted him to melt in a pool of embarrassment when he realised his younger siblings were there.

"Meimei and I tried to wake you," Michael murmured quietly.

The Taiwanese girl nodded in confirmation, looking worried. "Yes," she agreed. "You've been here with aniki for so long. You need to rest, Kiku-nii. Heracles-kun is going to take you home, so please rest well." She beamed sweetly, and Kiku couldn't help but smile weakly back at her.

"We will remain with aniki for the rest of the night," Michael assured him with a curt nod. "Heracles-san," he said, staring deeply into the Greek man's turquoise eyes for a long while, and the brunet man just stared back blanky. Meimei and Kiku just looked on in a mixture of confusion and exasperation. Soon enough, both nodded, as if reaching a silent agreement. "Goodbye for now, Kiku," he said.

"Bye bye, Kiku-nii!" Meimei said brightly, a far cry from how she was a few days ago when the accident occurred, and for that Kiku was relieved. He saw how Michael gazed down at her fondly, and chuckled softly. He was good for her.

"S-see you later, guys," Kiku said softly, moving to walk but was surprised when Heracles supported him by placing one arm around his shoulders. "H-Heracles-san?" He flushed.

Heracles smiled. "Come on, Kiku," he said serenely. "I'm taking you home."

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

He had almost gone to Francis's house, but he knew he wouldn't get what he needed there. He had wracked his brain for someone who could provide it, surprised that it took him so long to think of someone seeing as he didn't really have many friends. But when he had thought of him, he had headed to his house right away. He got lots of odd looks, being dressed in oversized pyjamas walking down streets and on the 131 bus, and even the guy he had gone to stared at him as if he were insane.

"What the fuck, Arthur? You don't look so awesome right now..."

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.

(1) Chapel Down was the first English producer to win a gold medal for sparkling wine at the International Wine Challenge. Its a rapidly growing business, already producing about 50 per cent of all commercial English wine, but with expansion plans that could increase production five-fold by 2010. Chapel Down's vision is to see vineyards across the Kent countryside, which would not only make for an attractive landscape but also help to stop farmers going out of business as their land use changes to growing vines. German grapes have been the backbone of its wine - varieties such as Reichensteiner, Bacchus, Muller-Thurgau and Schonburger - but the company is shifting towards the Champagne varieties, like Pinot Noir, as demand for its fizz increases. Currently, about 35 per cent of its wines are sparkling but the company says that is likely to rise signficantly in the future. You can get more information about Chapel Down and other wines here: http : // www. thirtyfifty . co . uk/

(2) Michelle (Seychelles, in case you've forgotten) didn't dislike Arthur due to any actual mental problems he had, but due to his personality. She disliked how he was so defensive and made other people upset because he, himself, was bitter. This will come in later and you'll understand.

I'm sure you can all guess who it was Arthur went to. XD You know, the awesome guy? Yeah, yeah, you know him. He's too awesome not to know. ;D

Please review, or you don't get to claim Arthur's eyebrows~  
Go on. You know you want them. They're hot. *_**shifty eyes**_*****


	10. Himawari no hana!

"Just let me in," Arthur muttered, pushing past his albino friend into the warmth of his apartment. He was so glad his apartment had central heating. He was bloody _freezing_. But that was to be expected; he did come here in pyjamas. He blushed at the recollection of that. He wore oversized cartoony spaceman pyjamas all the way here. Oh, Lord.

"Seriously," his friend said, frowning. "You really don't look awesome."

Arthur ignored him. "You got any larger, Gilbert?" he demanded wearily, already rifling through cabinets in Gilbert's kitchen.

"You know I do," the albino replied, leaning over Arthur to grab a six-pack of Stella Artois. He yanked a tin out and tossed it to the blond, who opened it instantly and downed it hastily. "Damn," Gilbert said, cracking his own beer open and taking a swig. "What happened, Artie? You haven't come to drink at my place for a few months now..." he murmured, regarding the other man with his crimson eyes, his scowl deepening when the tired man leaned against the wall. He would probably fall down if it weren't for the wall behind him.

"Lots of things have happened, Gilbert," the Englishman said with a heavy sigh, closing his eyes for a moment.

"I don't see you a lot anymore," the German mumbled, sipping his drink again. "You only come to me when you're depressed and... Shit." He ran a hand through his slick white hair and huffed. "I'm not really that articulate, you know. So... well, what I'm trying to say is--"

"Thank you."

Gilbert looked up, blinking in surprise when he saw a small smile on Arthur's face.

"You may think that I just rely on you for larger," the other man murmured quietly. "But... that isn't quite true." He turned away, embarrassed. "What _I'm_ trying to say is--"

"Yeah. Yeah, I get you." Gilbert grinned. "Thanks."

Arthur smiled softly, but that soon disappeared as a sudden itch in his throat prompted him to cough, and he would have winced at how disgusting it sounded if he weren't too busy trying not to choke on his sharp intakes of air. He heard Gilbert talking but was too busy concentrating on trying to stop coughing. He hardly even realised being gently but urgently steered towards the sofa. He wasn't taking in enough air due to his wracking coughs, and he felt a sense of dread and panic pass through him as everything began fading to black.

_Help... No... not again... not again..._

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

_It was blur. His vision was blinded - by what? Tears? The speed? He didn't know... it was just so foggy. Everything was blended together, colours mixing and swirling in his vision. He couldn't see. He couldn't see..._

Screaming... He heard screaming from the back seats. Did someone say his name? That was the only thing he could hear, and it wasn't even vivid. "Arthur!" was screamed more than once, but it sounded so muffled. The tone was horrified, panicked, and he heard sobbing, but it was... so blur...

It only got worse when he accelerated. Coldness washed in all around him, and the crying and screaming seemed to stop and an odd echoing sound resonated in his ears, and he saw murky brown... It was cold... just like he_ was. The man who did this to him._

Before everything turned black, he saw sunflowers in the snow... covered and surrounded by blood.

"You can't escape."

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

He woke with a silent scream, mouth open but no sound coming out, and he thrashed violently. "Gedorff!" he slurred weakly but defiantly, gasping and squirming frantically.

"Arthur! Arthur, it is me. It's Francis. Calm down."

Recognising the voice, the thrashing died down slightly, and the blond man panted heavily, trying to breathe more, feeling as if he had been under water for a long time.

"Arthur?" came a nervous and concerned voice. "You all right, buddy?"

Slowly, the Englishman's emerald eyes flickered open and he saw two faces hovering over him. Instantly, he pushed himself up, face heating up. "I-I'm so sorry--" he spluttered.

"Don't be," Gilbert said awkwardly. "It wasn't your fault... Lay back down," he ordered, and Arthur found himself complying slowly. The albino turned away, swallowing. "I... I need a beer," he grumbled, rushing into the kitchen.

Arthur looked after him, brows drawn together in confusion, but he snapped back into reality when his chin was grabbed gently and he was forced to meet sapphire eyes. "Francis," he muttered darkly, looking at his forehead instead of his eyes. "Sor--"

"Don't," the French man interrupted softly. "Don't apologise." He sighed tiredly and shook his head. "'Ow can you be a therapist when you still blame yourself for the incident?" He grimaced when Arthur flinched so strongly he almost fell off of the sofa. "They survived, you know." He frowned deeply when Arthur's eyes filled with tears.

"I know," he whispered, shoulders shaking and body trembling. "But... it's the fact that I did it... It's the fact that I drove off that pier and into that fucking lake..." He choked on a sob, but the water in his eyes didn't fall. "I had two _kids_ in the back, Francis." He finally met his ex-boyfriend's eyes. "Kids..."

Heart wrenching, Francis pulled Arthur into his chest, a solemn expression on his features. "But they are okay, Arthur. Tino and Berwald are looking after Peter, and Lillian**(1)** lives with Vash..."

"I was a terrible parent," Arthur whispered, vision blurring.

"You were young," Francis said sharply. "Elizabeth died shortly after giving birth to Peter, and her sister put Lillian in your care. You were only a teenager, not to mention a single parent and you were dealing with _him_." Here both men's faces darkened. "It wasn't your fault... I just... wish I was there for you during that," he mumbled, looking away with immeasurable guilt on his face.

Arthur swallowed and shook his head. "It's over now," he said quietly. He decided to divert the conversation. "Why did you come over here...?" he asked wearily.

"Gilbert called me," Francis explained, recognising the elusive act but not mentioning it. "Shortly after you began coughing..."

"Oh." Arthur's already-prominent flush from his temperature deepened due to embarrassment.

"He said you walked here... dressed as you are now." He glared. "Are you stupid?"

The Englishman heaved another sigh and leant back, closing his eyes. "Don't..." he murmured.

Francis shook his head, and then perked up. "Matthieu came around to my 'ouse," he said, and Arthur shot up again.

"Is he all right?"

"Well, yes," the blond man said, quirking a brow. "Half of his face is bruised, he was sobbing, but I made him feel better - not like that," he assurred the Brit when faced with a ferocious glower. Francis scowled back slightly. "I'm not the kind of person who takes advantage of another when they are that upset, in spite of what you may think," he snapped.

"Sorry," Arthur muttered after a moment.

"Non, non, je suis desolé." His dark features melted into a small smile. "Just rest now, Arthur. You need it."

The Englishman hesitated a bit at first, but soon gave in and let himself doze off. Francis covered him with a duvet and then quietly entered the kitchen.

"Gilbert?" he muttered quietly, regarding the albino man who was clutching a dented beer can, staring out the window with a hollow gaze.

"So many damn sunflowers... So damn many..."

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

"Ugh," a man groaned in annoyance, pushing himself up from his bed and grabbing his pink mobile phone. "Like, who calls at midnight? I mean, come on." Sighing, he flipped it open. "Hell_ooo_?"

"Felix..."

The blond perked up instantly, eyes widening. "Toris!" he exclaimed. "Toris, like, what's up? What's happening? Are you okay?"

"I'm all right," the other man assured him, sounding exhausted.

"You sound, like... totally tired, Toris..." _This never happened when I was taking care of you..._

"Don't worry, Felix," Toris said softly, and Felix could almost hear his gentle smile. "I've been up for a long while taking care of Eduard... You remember him, don't you? Eduard Von Bock?"

"Yeah," Felix agreed quickly. "So, is, like, everything okay?"

"Well... Ivan... _punished_ Eduard last night... He's not in very good shape right now. Poor Raivis is terrified..."

The Polish man gritted his teeth. Toris never thought about himself! "Like, what about _you_?" he demanded. "Are _you_, like, okay?"

"Me?" Toris sounded baffled. "Of course. Felix..." He swallowed. "I... I miss..."

"I, like, totally miss you too," the blond man said fondly, feeling his eyes sting. "But I'll see you soon." He wanted to be optimistic; it brightened Toris's spirits a little at least.

"Yes..." Toris agreed, sounding a bit happier. "Yes, I'll see you soon - I-I have to go. I hear footsteps. Good bye for now, Felix."

"Bye--"

The line went dead. Felix stared at his phone for a minute, preparing to throw it, and then slowly let his hand drop... and began to sob.

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

"Toris... did I hear you speaking to someone?"

"Y-yes, Mr. Braginski. I was just talking to Eduard. I know he's asleep, but... I thought it would help--"

A smack echoed throughout the room, and Toris fell off of his chair, grimacing when he hit his head against the wall, and gritting his teeth in pain when the Russian pinned him down.

"Lying is bad, Toris... Do I have to punish you, too?"

Toris didn't even try to scream anymore.

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.

(1) Liechtenstein. She doesn't have a human name, so I looked up popular names in her country, and this was the main one I found. I'll be doing the same for various other countries later on.

Ooh, the plot - it thickens! Also, I can't help making Francis and Arthur friends. Their relationship is rocky, but they're close.

Oh, and tea and scones for those who can guess why Gilbert was acting oddly. I made it rather obvious, but you know how it is.

Next time it'll brighten up a bit for a few chapters, just for a break from the angst, and the rating will be going up to 'M'.

I feel so bad for poor Matthew. :'c Poor guy. He needs more hugs. Whoever reviews gets to hug Mattie! ...For a small fee of five dollars!/America (I'm so very British. I wrote pounds first... twice. Oh my.)

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm tired and only have a few minutes before I'll be heading to bed. Thank you for reading.


	11. Kisu, kisu!

It was a beautiful diamond ring. He had really pushed the boat out to get it; he didn't have a lot of money, so he'd had to work overtime for months, and had even achieved a promotion before he had obtained enough money for the ring. It was a thin gold ring, with modest diamonds lining it all the way around, with a bigger one on top. The one on top was plain, and the others were tinted pink. It had costed a lot, but he had seen it as worth it.

His eyes slowly strayed towards his partner, and a small fond smile made its way onto his face. He flipped the box shut and put it back in his blazer pocket, and began stroking his fiancée's hair gently. "Meimei..." he said quietly, and leant down to press a kiss against the slumbering girl's forehead. Meimei smiled in her sleep and shifted slightly, and Michael found his own smile growing slightly in response. His normal calm, blunt expression slipped back onto his face when he heard someone clear their throat, and he turned to the doorway to see his elder brother's doctor there, Tino Väinämöinen.

"Erm," the doctor began awkwardly, slightly unnerved by Michael's blank look. He hastily composed himself and smiled slightly. "Mr. Wong Yao will be able to leave the hospital soon," he informed the Asian boy kindly. "He was stablised when Mr. Kiku Honda was here, and he has been recovering well ever since." He smiled properly now. "I bet you're glad."

There was a pause before Michael muttered softly, "Yes."

Tino had obviously been expecting a longer answer, but just continued smiling in response. "Well, I'll get a weelchair ready for when he wakes up," he said and bowed his head slightly. "Good day." He departed from the room, not really expecting a goodbye, only to bump into someone. He yelped in surprise when his documents went flying everywhere. Tino flushed slightly and fell to his knees quickly to grab his papers. "I-I'm sorry," he apologised.

"'T's n'th'ng."

The Finnish man looked up, blinking in surprise. "Oh," he said, shocked. "Ber-- Mr. Oxenstierna..." he hastily corrected himself, blush deepening.

"T'no," the quiet man grunted in response, icey blue eyes boring into the smaller man's amethyst ones.

"I-it's been a while," the dark-blond murmured softly, standing and hugging his documents to his chest.

"Mm," the other man agreed.

Tino hesitated for a moment, feeling slightly hurt when the man didn't try to initiate more conversation. "Well... I'll be going now. Goodbye, Mr. Oxenstierna." He bowed slightly before moving to leave, not noticing icey blue eyes following his movements.

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

When they had arrived at Kiku's house, the Japanese man invited Heracles in. The Greek man accepted easily, not minding if it was only out of the shorter man's cultural politeness. He just enjoyed spending time with him.

He wasn't too surprised when he saw the interior of Kiku's house. It was Japanese styled with tatami flooring and shoji doors and such things. He even found himself following Kiku's example and removing his shoes at the doorway.

"I like your house..." Heracles remarked slowly, taking in all of the details.

Kiku smiled tiredly back at him. "I thank you," he said, not commenting on the lack of manners the Greek man displayed.**(1)**

Heracles just waved a hand in dismissal of thanks and sat down on the tatami flooring, crossing his legs.

"W-would you like a drink?" Kiku asked uncomfortably, not knowing how to act.

"We were friends..."

Kiku started, surprised. "Excuse me?" He stiffened when Heracles met his eyes but found he couldn't look away because of all the emotions crashing and colliding within those turquoise orbs across from him.

"In primary school... and high school... through college," the Greek man muttered, clenching his fists on his legs. "When we got different jobs... we stopped seeing each other as much... and you grew distant from me..." His blank face fell slightly and he actually looked surprisingly vulnerable - anger, resentment, and anguish swimming in his eyes. "Don't you want to be my friend anymore... Kiku?"

The Japanese man was shell shocked. Eyes wide and frozen solid, he just stood where he was, gaping at the other man for a moment before regaining himself and blushing. He looked away. "It's not that, Heracles-san..." he said.

"Then what is it?" the Greek man demanded.

"I-I don't know," Kiku said softly, nervousness growing. He was being truthful; he honestly didn't know why he had started to avoid Heracles after university. When they were in primary school, they were just best friend, but as they moved through high school, there was just something else. He didn't understand what it was exactly, but he knew he had never felt such feelings before, and it kind of scared him. At the time, he had been on bad terms with Wang Yao, so he couldn't confront his brother about it, and he didn't want to ask his younger siblings. He was supposed to be a role-model. He had actually asked Arthur, but the man just got both embarrassed and depressed and went for a beer, so that didn't really help much. Other than that, Kiku couldn't ask any others. He didn't socialise much, and he didn't put trust in people easily, so he didn't know who else to go to, and he couldn't go to the problem itself - himself, who was right before him. "I'm sorry," he finally apologised, rubbing his arms self-consciously. "I... I really don't know. I'm confused... I..." He cut himself off with a gasp as he was enveloped in Heracles's strong, warm arms. "H-Heracles-san--?"

Heracles placed a finger on Kiku's lips, staring down at him meaningfully. "Kiku," he said softly. "I, too... I..."

"H-Heracles..."

Lips met.

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

_Ding dong!_

The bell rang, followed by urgent knocking, rousing Matthew from his sleep. He opened his eyes, glaring groggily due to the noise, and forced himself up. "Francis...?" he mused, but then recalled the French man telling him...

_"Matthieu, I must leave for a while. I shall return later. Until then, sleep." Francis leant down and pressed a surprisingly soft and gentle kiss to the blond boy's forehead, and pulled a blanket over him. "I shall be back as soon as I can. Sleep well, mon cher..."_

Matthew felt his face heat up and shook his head to rid himself of the flush. He then tugged open the door. "Hello--" he began, and then blinked, and took on a nervous expression before covering it up with anger. "Alfred," he hissed, but found himself softening again when he saw the horror and regret in his brother's eyes.

"M-Matthew," the American said, and it came out sounding more like a sob. _He only says my name when it's serious..._ Matthew thought despondently. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry." He pulled his brother into a tight hug, and Matthew sighed softly, returning the hug and patting Alfred's back.

"It's okay... It's not your fault, eh..."

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

The vibration of a phone, and the sound of, "Marukaite chikyuu~" resounded throughout the room, and both men pulled apart quickly, blushing deeply. Kiku fumbled for his LG phone and flipped it up, still very flustered.

"M-moshi moshi."

"Kiku..."

"Michael?" Kiku blinked. Michael didn't often call him.

"Yes," the man answered, and there was a long pause before, "Yao is being discharged. He has just awoken, and he is allowed to leave."

Kiku's eyes widened and he found himself feeling so relieved. "Really? He is all right?"

"Yes."

"Let me talk to him!" came a voice from the background, and there was a bit of static before a familiar voice shouted brightly, "Kiku!"

"Aniki..." Kiku said quietly, unable to prevent himself from smiling. Unbeknownst to him, Heracles was staring intently as his smile. "How are you?"

"Oh, I'm fine, I'm fine," Yao said cheerfully. "I can't wait to see you this weekend!"

"Weekend?" Kiku asked, confused.

"Oh, right, I haven't told you." He laughed nervously. "Well, since I'm healthy again, we--that is, Im Yong Soo, Michael, Meimei and I... mostly Im Yong Soo. Isn't that weird?--arranged to go to a Japanese onsen on the weekend. You can invite your friends of course!"

Kiku, to be frank, was astonished. He just held the phone in silence for a while, and flushed again when his brother began calling his name worriedly. "Y-yes, aniki," he said. "I'd love to go."

"Great! Wonderful! Fantastic!" The Japanese man smiled weakly at his brother's enthusiasm. "And Kiku... I'm... I'm glad you're talking to me again..."

Kiku felt his heart wrench and he managed a nod, his throat feeling sore. Yao seemed to understand.

"See you soon, Kiku."

"Goodbye for now, aniki."

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

Hetalia Axis Powers belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.

(1) You're supposed to say, "Excuse me for intruding," when you enter a Japanese person's home. It's rude not to. However, later Greece may be saying, "Tadaima," if all goes well. ;D

I'm so tired... So, so tired... Yes, still. _**MerryxMaking**_** and I are swamped with work in school - it really is tiring. We need sleep. Seriously... bah.**

Well, the angst level is dropping, and we shall have sunshine around the horizon in the next chapter~ (Well, actually, it's raining for the first part. Hey, it's London. But later it's sunny in Japan.)

Please review! Thanks for your previous ones so far!


	12. Watashino misu desu!

It was early in the morning now. Wang Yao had called Kiku around midnight, and both he and Heracles were astonished how the time had flown by. As it had began raining not too long ago--hey, it was England!--Kiku had invited Heracles to spend the night, to which the Greek man easily agreed to.

Kiku had to admit he found it harder to do his daily chores as Heracles insisted on helping him, much to his protests, and the Greek man, in spite of working at a bar and having to clean up a lot, wasn't much good at all with Kiku's cleaning. When the Japanese man was dashing up and down his room with his damp flannel, the brunet had ran into him numerous times and didn't squeeze his flannel enough at first and so created a moderate puddle of water that he then, himself, slipped in.

Later, the fair man had been preparing a meal--sushi, as he hadn't been shopping in a while--and Heracles had mixed up various ingredients and had somehow added ginger to some of the sushi. They had had to restart and make simple onigiri as Kiku's ingredients had all been ruined.

Sitting at Kiku's table, both men ate in silence, an awkward atmosphere about them for different reasons.

"I'm sorry," they both blurted at the same time, and then looked at each other in surprise and both asked, "Why?"

Both parties flushed slightly. "A-after you," Kiku stuttered softly, staring down at his cobalt blue kimono and unconsciously plucking at a loose thread.

"I'm... sorry... that I was such a bother today..." Heracles muttered, also diverting his eyes to his knees. "I wanted to help... but... I just ruined everything..." He frowned down at his hands, feeling horrible for destroying Kiku's evening, but started when the Japanese man placed his hands over his. He blinked up at Kiku, whom was leaning over the table to reach his hands.

"Don't be," he said. "I was... very glad you were here." He flushed slightly again. "I get... lonely... quite often..." Here, he pulled his hands away to sit back down, but was surprised to find himself being pulled half-way across the table and into a strong hug. "H-Heracles-san!" he exclaimed, embarrassed.

"You won't be lonely again, Kiku... I promise." Turquoise eyes shone with determination but also a more gentle, loving emotion. "Because I will always be here for you."

There was silence for a long moment before Kiku mustered up his courage and tilted his head up slightly to press his lips against Heracles's. This kiss was coniderably deeper than the last one they shared; as soon as their mouths met, Heracles did not hesitate to delve his tongue into Kiku's mouth, trailing along the sides teasingly and pushing against the Japanese man's tongue. Panting, moaning, and gasping all filled the air, and too soon were they apart, separated by only a trail of saliva. Flushed faces and emotional eyes stared at one another, and they leant forward once more.

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

When Francis arrived home, he did not expect to see his current resident's elder brother (and antagoniser... in retrospect) sitting next to him with an anguished look on his face. Francis couldn't help but think he deserved the guilt; he had hurt his own flesh and blood!

Not bothering to disguise his disgust, he flung his coat onto the table before the brothers and towered over Alfred, glaring down at him without any kind of pity, and the teenager squirmed under his gaze.

"What do you have to say for yourself, Alfred F. Jones?" he bit out, not hearing Matthew trying to justify his brothers actions or explaining it was all right now.

"I'm sorry..." the caramel-haired boy mumbled begrdugingly, but he did look remorseful.

"Do you think sorry shall cut it?" he hissed angrily, folding his arms.

"No..." Alfred sighed. "I know what I did was... inexcusable...." He swallowed. "But... I really do have trouble with my anger... and I'm going to get help..." He closed his eyes, not noticing the astonishment on his brother's and Francis's faces.

"Alfred..." Matthew whispered in awe, but he was reproachful still. "Do you mean it?"

"Yeah, Mattie." The American smiled weakly at his brother. "I don't wanna be like this anymore. I mean, like..." He ran a hand through his hair. "You know?"

Matthew smiled at his brother's broken English. "Yeah," he agreed. "Thanks, Al."

Alfred's smile widened before he suddenly regained his guilty look. Matthew, of course, noticed this instantly.

"What's up, Al?" he asked with a frown.

"Well..." The elder brother bit his lip and clenched his fists. "When you... left..." Pain flashed through his eyes, and Matthew felt bad for Alfred. He was so conflicted. "I kinda... I dunno. I don't even _know_. Just... Something happened, and Arthur--"

"Arthur?" Francis asked with a frown. "'E is at my friend's 'ouse. What 'appened?" he demanded, fury growing more at the mention of Alfred doing something to two people he cared about.

Alfred sighed and looked down like a child being scolded. "I kissed him..." he said weakly, and both other men saw the conflict in his eyes, and Francis felt some of his rage melt away. He was only a kid, and he knew about his father. Matthew had told him terrible stories of their father. Whenever he asked Matthew about his mother, however, he just dismissed it and changed topics. Something had obviously happened in these boy's pasts, and he wanted to know. Later, he was sure Arthur may wish to as well. If he had to play matchmaker, he would have to get Arthur to become curious about Alfred...

As if reading his thoughts, Matthew sent Francis a scowl of disapproval and mouthed a reprimand of, 'Now is not the time!' before trying to console his brother.

However, when Francis was plotting, nothing could stop him.

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

_The pain... Oh, god, the immeasurable _pain_. Merely breathing caused his ribs to contract and initiated heavy hacking coughing, and blood sprayed out from his lips after his continuous coughing. He panted heavily when he had finished, eyes so bruised he was almost blinded; he could hardly see anything, but, boy, could he feel!_

Speaking of senses, he began to hear heavy footsteps, and forced himself to be quiet. A door creaked open, and he couldn't help but think of some kind of horror movie... in which he was the victim.

"Gilbert..." He flinched at the voice, hardly even recognising his name. "Look at me, Gilbert..." the faux-cheerful voiced ordered in a sing-song tone. "Or I'll have to punish you again..."

He knew that the man would follow through with his threats, and so he slowly raised his battered head, only to receive a hard slap across the face, followed promptly by a kick to his bruised--possibly fractured--ribs and, although he was already writhing on the cold floor, he still felt blows colliding with him... but he couldn't find the strength to scream.

"Gilbert... say my name..."

Pain-filled crimson eyes met bright amethyst ones, and the violet ones sparked upon seeing the suffering in those red-tinted eyes.

"Say my name, Gilbert..."

A pause, a punch, a bite, and, "I-Ivan..."

A smirk.

"Good boy."

Bit it didn't end there. It never just ended there.

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

He was roused from his sleep when he felt frantic movements next to him. Opening one bleary green eye, Arthur glanced around before zoning in on Gilbert. He opened his mouth to reprimand the guy on waking him, when he saw the other's eyes were closed and he was seating profusely, and his mouth was open... but no sound was coming out.

Growing worried, Arthur sat up properly and called out hesitantly, "Gilbert?" He frowned nervously when all he received was a flinch. He shook the man's shoulder gently but slightly forcefully. "Gilbert," he said, only getting another flinch in response, and he had to dodge a punch. Realising he wasn't going to wake his friend this way, he leant over and straddled the albino's lap, and began shaking his shoulders jerkily, his growing panic now being displayed in his actions. "Gilbert!" he practically shouted. "Gilbert, it's me, Arthur." Talk about dé já vu... "Gilbert... please wake the fuck up!" the Brit yelled, and cursed loudly when his and Gilbert's foreheads collided painfully. But it least it woke him up.

"What the fuck?" the albino shouted, panicked, before realising he had a weight on his lap. He stared up at his friend for a moment before collapsing backwards, closing his eyes and catching his breath. "Sorry..." he grumbled, brows drawn together.

"It's fine," Arthur said, slightly awkward but trying to hide it. He folded his arms and turned away. "Are... erm... are you all right?" he mumbled uncomfortably, rather embarrassed about the whole situation and not knowing how to act. Did he act normal? Did he offer him a beer? Did he console him? God help him if he had to actually console someone... He was never any good at that.

Gilbert heaved a heavy sigh and opened one eye, scrutinising Arthur for a moment before he smirked weakly. "Yeah," he answered quietly. "But would you mind getting off of me?"

"Eh?" Arthur blinked before realising he was still sitting on his friend's lap. His cheeks bloomed scarlet and he hastily stood, only for the albino man to pull him down next to him.

"You're still sick; you shouldn't get up," the German said distractedly, still deep in thought. Whatever that dream--no, nightmare--had obviously effected him... but the blond just didn't know what to do. Instead of offering a hug like most people would do, he just clapped his friend on the shoulder.

"Would you like a beer?" he asked.

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

Massaging his temples, Francis stared at the two brothers before him in annoyance instead of any frvilolous emotions for once, and it actually seemed to disturb them.

"Very well," he finally said with a tired sigh. "You may both stay for the night."

"Wha...?" Alfred began, frowning. "Nah, it's cool, I can go back to my place." He looked away, guilt still etched over his face. "Mattie can stay here if he wants to though..."

"Alfred..." Matthew said softly, smiling. "Stop being an idiot." He bopped his brother on the head. "You can be a total bastard, but you're still my brother, and I love you."

The two other men stared at him for a moment, before Alfred practically glomped his brother, and Francis chuckled slightly, smiling at the two. _Matthieu, Alfred... You both deserve 'appiness... and I 'ope to 'elp you both find it..._ He stared meaningfully at the younger of the two, a dark look passing over his face before he masked it hastily again. _Even if... it means I don't..._

Slowly, he rose and left the room, knowing he wouldn't be missed.

When he collapsed onto his bed, prepared to sleep and just shower in the morning, his phone vibrated in his pocket. With a sigh, he pulled it out of his back pocket, finding three texts.

_From: Wang Yao  
Sent: 23:47  
Subject: Invite  
Ni hao, Francis! It's been a while since we've spoken, almost a year in fact! Don't you think it's time for a reunion? You may or may not be aware I was hospitalised recently--I'm guessing you were, as your friend Arthur Kirkland is my younger brother's best friend (you guys have an odd relationship)--so we're all planning on celebrating my recovery. If you'd like to go to a Japanese onsen this weekend, meet us in central London... Kiku will tell Arthur the exact location, and you can just follow him. PS: Shinatty-chan says hello._

Francis blinked in surprise. He actually hadn't heard of this. He and Arthur weren't exactly on speaking terms since Francis and Michelle had started going out, and it seemed to only worsen the situation when they had broken up. He felt a rush of guilt, but shook it off. He couldn't justify his actions, and Michelle would probably be happier without him anyway...

_From: Arthur Kirkland  
Sent: 01:35  
Subject: [no subject]  
Gilbert had a sort of panic attack a little while ago. He's fallen asleep again now and he seems fine, but I thought you'd want to know. I mean, he is your friend, is he not? Anyway, I'd best get some more sleep as well. Guarantee I'll have a bloody hang over tomorrow morning. I always have to make it worse for myself, don't I? I know, I'm an idiot. Well, see you soon. Sleep well... if you aren't already. If you are then... good morning... or something. I'm babbling. Love you, bye. x_

He blinked at the last part, eyes bulged out, before realising the third text was from the same sender.

_From: Arthur Kirkland  
Sent: 01:36  
Subject: NO!  
I didn't mean the end part! I used to end my texts to you like that, and Liz, so - oh, sod it. I didn't mean it, though. Not at all. I think you're a twat, and I hate you. So goodnight. Take care of yourself, git._

Francis laughed. _Arthur... you never change_.

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

_**Hetalia Axis Powers **_**belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

What do I like best about this chapter? I'd have to say the texts. Also, to justify my grammar in the texts, I myself use grammar when texting, and I also think China and England would be the kind of people to use grammar for this. For America, I'd do my best to make his texts... well, not quite as grammatical. It will make me twitch and itch to correct it, but I'll do my best...

Just to clarify, this is USxUK, not PrUK or FrUK! The latter two are just friendship-centred. No extra porn for you guys, I'm afraid. Later, but not now, and I'm not going to to multiple pairings with one character. My apologies. XD;

I'll be making an AMV for my friends (whom practically all of which like _**Hetalia**_** and have a character they are), so I'll link you guys to that when I'm done. The music is **_**Best Friends **_**by **_**GazettE**_** and will have **_**Hetalia**_** in it. :3**

I'm starting to babble like Iggy was (but that's okay - out of my friends, I'm England, so it's justifiable... I'm having to justify myself too much, I think), so I'll be shutting up now. Spare a moment for reviews? Cheers, guys. Have a pint of larger. America's paying. Kufufu... Shh, I'm not being OOC... *_**shifty eyes... again**_*****

**Oh, and yes, you may still vote on the pairings, but I will be mixing it up a lot. I've decided since people are voting for many different things, I'll try to fit them all in, so be prepared for tonnes of angst as well as fluff and whatnot... But in the next few chapters, there shall be much fluff and... what you've been waiting for (I assume... hentaiii) ***_**drumroll**_***... M-rated stuff. Yeah... I'm rather anti-climactic.**

**Oh, and excuse me if I use English terms when in America's or Canada's POVs and whatnot. I'm originally British, so I'll most likely use more British terms than American. Forgive me? You can play with my fairies, and I might let you pet my unicorn if you forgive me...**


	13. Iko!

"Jesus, Arthur," Gilbert said in amusement, sniggering openly as he followed his embarrassed friend. "You're twenty-three now, and my clothes are big for you!" he declared loudly, leaning on his knees as he laughed.

Arthur flushed deeply and swatted the albino's head. "Shut up, you twat," he grumbled moodily. "To be fair, you're two years older than I am**(1)**..." he said defensively before sniffing and folding his arms around his torso. It was cold enough in London without being ill!

"Yeah, but my _younger_ brother is bigger than me," Gilbert probed, grinning evilly, obviously entertained. "You have no excuse, Arthur!" he said in a sing-song voice, crimson eyes glittering brightly.

The Brit rolled his eyes, not bothering to argue anymore. His throat felt a bit scratchy and he would rather not make it worse. He scowled bitterly at the German beside him. Here he was, dressed in layers upon layers of warm clothing and still freezing his arse off, and then there was Gilbert, wearing a short-sleeved shirt and ripped jeans. He sighed in resignation. It was going to be a long weekend.

"How long do you think they'll be?" Gilbert suddenly asked, flinging himself onto a bonnet of some random car. A Ferrari 458 Italia. He whistled at it, momentarily distracted. "Wish I could take this for a spin..." he said in awe.

"Don't even think about it, Gilbert," someone grumbled wearily, and Gilbert and Arthur turned to see a certain blond standing beside an excited brunet boy.

"Ve, ve! Ludwig, do you know these guys?" the man asked childishly, smiling lazily.

"Unfortunately," the German muttered, rubbing his forehead. "Feliciano, this is Gilbert, my older brother," he mumbled, waiting a few seconds whilst the friendly Italian zipped over to the albino to shake his hand vigorously. "And this is my colleague and friend, Arthur Kirkland..." He scrutinised said blond, raising a brow at his scarf and exessive clothing. "Arthur, you--"

"Went out in the rain, yes, yes, I know," the Brit muttered irritably. "But I'm fine. It's just a small cold," he said, blinking when the Italian danced over to him. "Erm... hello," he said awkwardly, shifting uncomfortably under the newcomer's scrutiny.

"Veee... Kiku's told me about you," he said, smiling languidly, blinking slowly when he noticed the man's tired green eyes spark.

"H-he has?" Arthur breathed excitedly, butterflies dancing in his stomach.

"Mm," Feliciano agreed, tilting his head. "He said you're good at music."

Arthur swallowed. Had Kiku really complimented him? "He did...?"

"Yes!" Feliciano confirmed, almost whining now. "Play some music for us when we get to the onsen, Arthur!" he said petulantly, only to be dragged back by Ludwig.

"Feliciano, don't be rude," he chided.

"It's fine," Arthur assured quickly. He couldn't let Kiku down! "I don't mind playing."

The blond man stared at him meaningfully for a moment before shaking his head. _Oh, Arthur..._

Arthur jumped when he felt a vibration in his pocket.

_Pub, Pub, Pub and GO! Fish and Chips!  
All those that I hate, a curse is sent your way!  
Fairy! Fairy! Ahahahahaha!  
Here I go again!_

"Hello?" Arthur greeted, seemingly obvlivious to the odd looks sent his way.

"Bonjour, mon cher!" a familiar voice shouted happily on the other end.

"Francis."

"Thank you for the texts last night. They made me so 'appy!"

"I told you, Francis! It didn't mean anything--"

"Oui, oui. But thank you," he said, his voice suddenly quieter.

Arthur blinked. "Francis?" he asked, lowering his voice. "Are you okay?"

There was a pause before Francis said in his usual up-beat voice, "But of course, mon cher!"

Arthur didn't believe him.

"Well, anyway, I invited Matthieu along, and he has a surprise for you--"

"Don't pin this whole thing on me, Francis!" a voice said in the background, and Arthur felt dread creep up on him.

"Oui, oui. Anyway, we shall be at the meeting point soon. Au revoir!"

The line went dead before the Brit could respond. Grumbling to himself, he stuffed his phone back into the back of his black jeans and levelled the people staring at him with an irritable scowl. "Francis and Matthew will be here soon..." he informed them, only to sneeze when he trailed off. He sniffled and shook his head, wincing slightly when it thumped.

"Should you be here, Arthur?" Ludwig asked, frowning in disapproval. "You're obviously sick..."

"Kiku wanted me to come," the blond said stubbornly, folding his arms. "I'll never let my friends down." _I'll never let anyone down again_.

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

"How come you didn't tell him I'm with you guys?" Alfred asked moodily, pouting in the back.

"Maybe because Arthur's still mad at you?" Matthew suggested wearily, sighing. "You can't blame him, Alfred."

Ashamed, the caramel-haired boy just quietened down and slumped in his seat, staring out the windows at the desolate landscape of London. "Which airport are we going to?" he asked.

"Gatwick," Francis answered as he swerved around a roundabout. "We shall be there in a few minutes," he said, smirking. "It shall be so fun being with everyone together in a steaming hot bath..."

Matthew cleared his throat, blushing slightly. "The airport's just up the road," he muttered, glancing nervously at the French man, to which he just smiled back, without any lecherous edge to it.

Alfred blinked in surprise, staring at Francis.

In fact, he actually looked quite sad...

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

"Arthur-san," Kiku greeted almost shyly as he removed Heracles's arms from around his waist. He removed his helmet and got off of the Yamaha R1. "Everyone, it's nice to see you."

"Kikuuu!" Feliciano shouted and hugged his friend, making the Japanese man blush. He still wasn't used to the Italian's public displays of affection. Nonetheless, he patted his friend's shoulder. "I missed you, Kiku!"

"It has been a while, Feliciano-kun," Kiku said mildly, smiling softly. "Please don't start crying..." he said uncertainly when the brunet's eyes watered.

"Don't worry," Ludwig grunted, pulling Feliciano into a one-armed hug. "He gets over-emotional a lot." He didn't sound as angry as he was pretending to be, though.

"I just wish you guys didn't leave the police station. It's so lonely working there by myself," he said, sniffling.

Ludwig opened his mouth to respond, when he felt something hit his head. "Oi! Potato bastard!" a voice shouted, and the blond sighed. "What did you do to my brother? If you make him cry, I won't hesitate to beat you up!"

"Now, now, Lovino," a heavily accented voice said, flinging an arm around the other Itailan's shoulders. "Calm down, I'll play with you."

Lovino's face turned deep red. "Antoniooo, you bastard!" he screeched.

As the chaos progressed, no one noticed another car pulling into the airport car park. Stepping out, the three asessed the situation, one in exasperation and the other two in amusement.

"I knew it'd be like this," Matthew said with a sigh.

"You say something, Mattie?" Alfred asked, turning to his brother.

The Canadian sighed again. "No, nothing." He hugged Kumajirou closer, only to jump when he felt a pressure on his shoulder. He looked up to see Francis smiling down at him.

"I'll protect you, Matthieu," he said with a wink, but his eyes were sincere.

Matthew blushed. "Uh... thanks, Francis."

Alfred wasn't paying attention to his brother and friend, but was instead scanning the crowd. He recognised Gilbert and Antonio, but brushed them off and then zoned in on Arthur, who was leaning against a wall, hugging himself and clad in various amounts of clothing. So, he was still sick. Well, heroes had to protect people, and so he waded through the miniature crowd and stood before the Englishman.

Arthur stared at the trainers before him, not wanting to look up. He remained silent for a while, trying to repress shivers, and wondering why they couldn't wait for the bloody flight inside. His head hurt, his body ached, he was bloody exhausted and freezing, and his throat felt terrible. Speaking of which, he really could use some water about now, but hell if he would ask for some. His money was in Gilbert's suitcase (they had decided to share as it was just easier, and Gilbert only had one suitcase that wasn't... inappropriate).

The Brit sniffed, and then cringed at the feeling of it, and his eyes watered slightly. He sucked in a deep breath, prepared to ask Alfred what the fuck he wanted, which proved to be the wrong thing to do, as he let out a string of hacking coughs rather than any words. He felt warmness seeping into him somehow, and a pressure around the back of his shoulders, and something being pressed to his lips.

Then he came back to his senses. Panting, getting over his coughing fit, he looked up tiredly to see panicked azure eyes staring down at him. "Are, uh, you okay?" the American asked awkwardly.

Arthur scowled and then looked away, trying to make some distance between them and failing as the kid still had his arm around him. How strong _was_ this kid, anyway?

"Peachy," he answered gruffly.

Alfred raised a brow. "You really speak weird," he informed him.

"And _you_ have a funny accent," Arthur countered. "You butchered my country's language."

"Butchered? I think you mean 'made better'," he said, grinning.

The Brit scowled. "Go away."

"No."

Arthur groaned. "I'm not in the mood for this, damn it," he said. "You hate me, I hate you, you obviously have issues but won't accept help, and I'm too busy to waste my time with you. So, if you would excuse me..." he began, trying to slink out of Alfred's hold to stand up, but found it almost impossible.

"I _do_ want help," the caramel-haired boy declared, flames dancing in his eyes. "And I never said I hate you!"

"You made it rather obvious!" Arthur defended, emerald eyes also flaring. "You were blatantly disgusted when you kissed me!" he hissed, abuptly turning away.

Alfred gritted his teeth and clenched his fists but took in a deep breath and counted for a while, and then let it out. It had worked; he did feel a little bit calmer. "Arthur..." he muttered, frowning when the addressed man didn't turn to face him. "It's rude to ignore people, you know," he said, trying to hold back a petulant tone.

"It's rude to discriminate," the blond countered snappishly, but turned to face him anyway. "What is it?" he demanded.

The American sucked in another breath. "I... I just wanted to say..." He swallowed thickly. "I just... I'm--"

"Okay, everyone, we've got to queue up for our flight now!" Taiwain shouted brightly, practically hopping up and down. "So, grab your things and let's go! My cousin Thuy**(2)** and brother Im Yong Soo." She beamed brightly and intertwined her hand with Michael's. "Onwards!"

"Meimei is so cute, isn't she?" Yao gushed, Kiku and Heracles on either side of him in case he required assistance. Behind his back, the Japanese and Greek man were also holding hands, and near them Feliciano was clinging to Ludwig's arm and spouting some nonsensical things to which Ludwig just nodded a few times.

Francis obviously noticed this, but didn't comment. Instead, he glanced down at Matthew, whose hands were occupied with hugging his backpack/bear... thing.

_I am starting to hate that... thing..._

To distract himself, he turned back to see Alfred and Arthur looking purposely away from one another, standing closer than necessary.

_L'amour... Who knew it was so troublesome?_

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.

(1) Since Prussia's age isn't specified (to my knowledge), I decided he could be twenty five, so he's near enough the same age as France and Spain.

(2) One of my best friends is from Vietnam and her Vietnamese name is Thuy. I'm going to call Vietnam this. I make up the names for countries who do not have human names given, and this is what I've chosen for Vietnam. Even though my friend is actually more like Russia... *_**shudders**_*****

To the onsen! Onwards!

1 review = hug from Canada! ;D  
Matthew: Ehh?!


	14. Furaito!

Who knew climbing a few stairs could be so bloody strenuous and, well, plain _exhausting_? Well, now Arthur did, he thought miserably as he ascended the blasted metal things, almost tripping at the top one.

"Good afternoon. Konbanwa," said the air hostesses politely with big smiles.

Kiku's eyes lighted up at the use of his first language and he responded to them in his usual monotonous voice, but he was obviously excited. Yao noticed this, but didn't comment, and instead just smiled at his younger brother fondly. He felt a prickling on his neck and turned to see Heracles staring-- but not at him, at his brother. Normally, he would have attacked whoever dared to glance at his siblings, but seeing the gentle and truly happy look on the usually expresionless man's face, the Chinese man held in his comments and nodded to the air hostesses before making his way down the airplane. He was seated next to Kiku in the middle, but after witnessing Heracles's... moment... he decided to discreetly switch tickets so that Yao was in the aisle seat and the other two men could sit beside one another. Michael noticed his switch and stared at him blankly for a moment before his lips twitched into a small smile and he nodded. Yao just gave him a "what-are-you-smiling-about?" look and promptly took his seat. Michael shook his head and guided Meimei to their seats, nodding once in a while as the girl prattled on about Asian culture, even though he was a part of it...

Arthur turned to where Kiku was seated, hoping the man would look at him, but deflated upon realising he was busy conversing with Heracles. Sighing, the Brit took his seat, practically falling into it. He kept his eyes open, reading the instructions on the safety pictures before him, and jumping when someone sat next to him. He didn't turn his head--it was thumping enough already--but glanced with his eyes and resisted the urge to groan. Antonio and Gilbert were seated next to him, Antonio in the middle and Gilbert in the aisle. The blond resisted the urge to call for a steward or stewardess to bring him a semi-automatic or something. Antonio and Gilbert were practically best friends, along with Francis. Antonio and Arthur used to fight a lot in their youth, and they had never really been on good terms since, and Arthur was sure that the Spaniard was searching for some method of revenge. Gilbert and he were all right; they were drinking buddies, but more than that. They just didn't want to admit to being close.

Sighing forlornly, the Englishman slouched--_slouched_!--in his seat and struggled to keep his eyes open. All the loud talking sounded like buzzing in his ears. He could faintly hear a baby bawling for one reason or another, and felt the vibrations of people's heavy footsteps down the aisle. And someone was kicking his bloody chair, to top it all off. He almost wanted to cry at the injustice of it all, but he somehow managed to resist.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may we please have your attention? This is flight three-eight-seven, and the destination is Kyoto in Japan. We will take you through all the safety procedures now..."

Even the stewardesses authoritative voice wasn't enough to keep him concious, and he soon found himself drifting off, hardly even registering it...

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

Gilbert's laughter suddenly cut-off and he glanced past his Spanish friend. Antonio blinked in confusion and asked, "Gilbert? Is something wrong?"

The German looked back at him and grinned sheepishly, but his red eyes were edged with concern. "Yeah, 'course I am. I'm awesome," he assurred his friend quickly, but then nudged him and asked, "Could you check on Arthur? He was really sick last night and he didn't seem too hot this morning either..."

Antonio blinked again and turned to his left, surprised to see Arthur there. He actually hadn't noticed the Brit sitting there. Probably because whenever he and Arthur were both within a fifty-foot radius they had always started a scuffle. Well, a bit more than that. They had actually hospitalised each other a couple of times. Antonio shuddered upon recalling the first time they had fought seriously. The Brit's smirk still chilled him.

Shaking off his feelings of dread, he looked back at Arthur, who had obviously fallen asleep now. He was breathing through his mouth, so presumably his nose was blocked. His face was pale but his cheeks were very flushed. Against his better judgement, Antonio placed the back of his hand against the blond man's forehead, wincing slightly and noticing with an odd mixture of smugness and sympathy when the Englishman leant into his cool touch. Slowly bringing his hand back, he turned back to Gilbert with a frown. "His temperature is very high."

The albino's face fell slightly. "Yeah... It was even worse last night." He bit his lip. "D'you... D'you think he's gonna be all right?"

Antonio smiled at his friend. "Do not worry too much," he advised. "Arthur has been through worse. I'm sure he'll be fine."

Appeased by Antonio's sincere and reasurring speech, Gilbert leant back in his seat a bit and started up another conversation, a little quieter as he kept in mind Arthur's sickness.

"Is it not lucky that we got to sit together?" a thick French accent enquired as he wrapped his arms around both Alfred and Matthew, one of whom threw him off and rolled his eyes and the other laughed nervously. As Francis persued his perverted advances on Matthew, Alfred was leaning forward slightly, having heard everything that occurred between the three men in front of him.

"_Arthur has been through worse_."

Alfred buried his head in his hands and prepared himself for a very, very long weekend.

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

"Ah, Lovino!" cried the Spaniard when their flight had ended, standing up immediately and leaning over to the seat in front of him, in which the addressed Italian was situated within. "Did you miss me?" Antonio enquired, chuckling happily when Lovino blushed furiously.

"Sh-shut up, you bastard!" he shouted angrily, before kneeling up in his seat and kissing the Spaniard's cheek. "You know I did," he grumbled, averting his gaze.

Antonio chuckled again. "Aww, I'm so glad."

"Tch, bastard," the brunet muttered again. "Feliciano, did you enjoy the flight?" he asked, his tone slightly gentler.

"Ve~! It was fun, but the food wasn't that great..."

"That's all you ever think about," Ludwig commented from next to him, only to be practically glomped by the youngest Italian.

"But I'm glad I got to sit next to Ludwig! That made me happy!" he cheered brightly, smiling languidly, unaffected when the German blushed crimson to the roots of his hair.

"Che, potato bastard," Lovino mumbled, only for his glare to increase when he received a peck on the cheek from Antonio. "What the fuck are you doing, idiot?" he screamed, slamming a hand over his cheek.

"Haha! You're so cute, Lovino," he replied, grinning.

"...Whatever."

"Hey, Arthur, time to wake up. We're here," Gilbert declared, prodding his ill friend, who slowly opened his eyes and scowled weakly.

"What? No way was that several hours," Arthur murmured throatily, covering his mouth when he let out a string of coughs.

The albino winced at the sound and patted him on the back sympathetically. "C'mon," he said. "It's been ages. My ass is numb," he grumbled, pushing himself up. "Need a hand?"

"I'm fine," the Brit said, slowly pushing himself up, almost collapsing back down twice.

"You all right, man?" Gilbert asked cautiously, noticing the man shaking.

"Yes, of course," Arthur answered snappishly, embarrassed. "J-just... My legs have gone numb, is all," he lied.

"Arthur, you've gotta learn to accept help sometime."

When the blond looked up, Gilbert had already left his seat to grab some luggage. Sighing forlornly, Arthur moved to help, only to stumble when someone leant over him from behind.

"My bad," a familiar voice said tightly, and Arthur turned around to see a certain American. He just swerved out of the way to follow the others, departing wordlessly. Alfred glanced after him helplessly, knowing it was Francis who patted his shoulder.

"I can empathise," the French man said with surprising seriousness, and Alfred just sighed.

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

Arthur _really_ wished he wasn't sick now, as he and his traitorous immune system were lingering near the back, away from anyone he could use to avoid the current bane of his existence but, suffice to say, that was not the case. He was walking sluggishly next to Alfred, arms folded as Gilbert had his luggage and he was slightly chilly in spite of the warm afternoon it was in Japan.

It had been surprisingly quick getting through the airport and getting into the hired coach, but in spite of the astonishing speed, it had still tired Arthur out even more. Everyone appeared to be a bit jetlagged, but they were also peppy with excitement, and Kiku was practically shining and talking animatedly to Heracles. Arthur felt a tinge of jealousy - he and Kiku had been friends for years, and the Japanese man had never spoken that happily with him...

He jumped in sudden surprise when he felt warmness around him once more. It was unnervingly familiar, and, sure enough, when he glanced down he saw the oversized bomber jacket draped around his shoulders. Swallowing his pride, the Brit glanced up at the American, who was also now averting his gaze, pouting rather childishly--_and cutely_, his mind hastened to add. "Thank you," he blurted out, immediately feeling his cheeks bloom bright red, but it had the desired effect and Alfred jerked around to stare at him for a second before flashing an uncertain but proud grin.

"No probs," he said. "It's what heroes do." He flashed a thumbs-up sign and Arthur rolled his eyes, fighting against whatever force it was tugging at his lips. Had they entered an anti-gravity chamber or something?

"We will be there very soon, guys!" Yao suddenly declared, cheered on by Meimei and given encouraging smiles from Michael and Kiku.

"How long is soon?" Gilbert hastened to ask, only to be slapped over the head by Ludwig.

"Soon is soon. Just wait patiently," his younger brother muttered in annoyance.

Gilbert stuck his tongue out at him, and Ludwig sighed.

"I sometimes-- scratch that. _Frequently_ wonder how you could possibly be older than I." He shook his head and began massaging his temples.

Gilbert just shrugged and flashed a grin. "It's because I'm awesome," he answered, and then his mood darkened slightly. "So how come Rod didn't come?"

"_Roderich_," Ludwig said with emphasis. "Couldn't come because he had too much work. He's probably currently playing now," he said, checking his watch.

"And Elizaveta stayed with him." The albino crossed his arms and turned to look out the window in silence.

Ludwig glanced at his older brother emotionlessly, but felt a bit sorry for him. He and Roderich didn't often get along due to both of their affections towards Elizaveta, who didn't even really like Gilbert. At all. Since she expressed her obvious abhorrence for the albino, Gilbert often teased her much like a young kid who teased the one they liked, but the girl didn't ever realise that he liked her seriously, so she clung onto her crush on Roderich who, to her credit, did actually like her back.

Ludwig shook his head. Why did his family have to be so immature? His questioned remained unanswered as he felt a tug on his sleeve and a constant droning of, "Doitsu, doitsu~! I want pasta~!"

In a quieter area of the coach, Arthur had fallen against Alfred's side when he had, once again, fallen asleep.

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

_**Axis Powers Hetalia**_** belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

**I can't post this chapter on dA because I've been suspended for two weeks. ***_**headdesk**_*** I've explained why in another story I'm posting after this. Can't be bothered to rewrite it. Most of you probably don't care anyway but still. XD; If you review this on dA, sorry, but you can't for the next few chapters because I've been suspended. Bleh.**

**Well, anyway, sorry it's not too long and I hope you like it in spite of that. I just had to add that little bit of fluff at the end there. I might draw it. If there are any artists out there, feel free to do so, because I'm not much of an artist. XD;**

**Well, anyway, please review. Oh, and yes, you can get hugs from the awesome that is Gilbert. ;D**

**Back to reading my angst until **_**MerryxMaking**_**/Kiku writes my USxUK fluffy smut for me. ***_**coughs and blushes**_*** Anyway... g-good day. I've tied Gilbert up for you, so go ahead and ravish or whatever. Peace out and stuff.**


	15. Ogorimasu!

"We're here! We're finally here!"

Most people on the coach jumped in surprise at Gilbert's shout, particularly Ludwig, who had been dozing off right next to him. Grumbling moodily, the blond ran a hand through his hair, loosening the gelled hair so that it fell into his face. "Couldn't you be quiet just once?" he muttered in annoyance, turning to his right when he felt a tug on his arm. "Feliciano?" he said. "Are you all right?" he asked in concern, only to blush bright red when the brunet fell into his lap.

"Ve~! Ludwiiig, I'm excited!" he cheered brightly, beaming at the blond man, who just sighed in response and ruffled the Italian's hair.

"I thought you might be," he said, fighting off a smile.

"Ah, me too," Meimei squeaked happily, clapping her hands and bouncing in her seat. "Won't it be fantastic to be back in Japan, Michael?" She beamed. "I've missed it."

Michael smiled and intertwined their hands, picking them up to kiss the back of Meimei's. "Yes," he agreed. "It shall be grand."

Meimei blushed and giggled, swinging their hands to entertain herself.

"Look at those sakura trees," Kiku whispered in awe, his monochrome eyes shining brightly. "Aren't they beautiful?"

Heracles smiled at him. "Yes," he agreed, placing his hand over the Japanese man's. "Almost as beautiful as you." He chuckled when Kiku flushed bright red.

Ludwig was glad Arthur wasn't awake to hear or see that. Remembering the Brit, he glanced over to where he was seated with that American boy, raising a brow at what he saw. Arthur's head was against Alfred's shoulder, and the bomber jacket he was wearing served as a blanket. Alfred's own head was atop Arthur's, but with the way his cheeks were coloured and his eyelids were flickering, the German guessed he was only feigning sleep. Ludwig could have facepalmed. _Both have issues with love, it seems. This is going to be very long..._

"Oh! Oh, guys, look!" Meimei shouted, turning to stare out of the front window. "Yong Soo and Thuy are there! Look, guys!" she ordered, and soon almost all of the people on the coach were looking out the window. They saw a short girl with long black hair waiting impatiently, dressed in a cobalt blue Áo Dài. Next to her was a rather tall young man, grinning and waving already, clad in a white and blue dopo. "Do you think we'll get to see Niran**(1)** again?" Meimei asked as she waved to her friends.

"Probably," Yao replied, smiling brightly. "It's been so long since we've been together..." he whispered, grinning like a loon.

Kiku smiled and put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "What matters is that we are."

He and Yao stared meaningfully at each other for a moment before smiling again.

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

"I missed you guys!" Meimei squealed as she dashed up to her siblings and flung both arms around them. Thuy blushed slightly, uncomfortable, but then hugged her sister back, glaring into her shoulder but trying not to smile. Yong Soo amiably threw an arm around Meimei as well, grinning.

"We missed you too, Mei-chan!" he exclaimed brightly, and then looked up as the others approached him. "Yaooo!" he cried and ran forward to glomp the Chinese man. Yao would have leapt out of the way if not for the way Yong Soo seemed genuinely happy to see him.

"Ni hao, Yong Soo," Yao greeted nervously, but smiled anyway and patted his back. "You've gotten taller," he marvelled, blinking in surprise when the younger man stood to his full height. Yao had to look up to see him now!

"Heh, really? I didn't notice," he replied with a big grin, and then blinked at someone behind Yao. "Kiku," he said.

"Yong Soo," the Japanese man replied softly, regarding his younger brother in a scrutinising way, prepared to fight if needs be, but was shocked when he was hugged in an _innocent_ way. "Y-Yong Soo?"

"Don't take this the wrong way," the Korean man said as he slowly pulled away. "I still hate you."

Kiku smiled at that. "Ah," he replied. "All right then." He was unnerved for a second there.

"Niran's waiting for us all at the onsen with Kohaku-obasan," Thuy explained softly, dark eyes meeting everyone else's. "Shall we enter now?" she enquired, shifting backwards.

"Wait!" another voice shouted, and everyone turned to see the albino, his brother, and Feliciano jumping (or being pulled in Ludwig's case) off of the coach. "Alfred and Artie are getting off. They're taking longer because they were asleep. And Artie's kinda sick," he explained as he jogged up to the group. Francis and Matthew bounded after them, and the Canadian blushed when Francis offered him a hand. He accepted it and jumped down with him.

"Sick...?" Thuy asked, frowning. "Should he be coming if he's sick?"

Gilbert snorted. "He's damn stubborn," he explained. Thuy nodded in understanding, and then everyone turned to see a caramel-haired man jumping off the bus and holding up a hand.

"I don't need--" A series of coughs. "Your bloody help," a voice said, only to contradict himself by tightly grasping the offered hand as he shakily stepped off the coach. He missed his last step, but Alfred caught him easily. Flushing darker than he already was, Arthur hastily composed himself and stood up properly, not realising that he was still wrapped in Alfred's jacket.

"Moe..." Kiku whispered to himself.

Heracles looked down at him. "What did you say?" he asked, confused.

Kiku flushed. "Aha... Nothing," he replied sheepishly. _I should have a camera with me..._

"Are we all here?" Thuy asked, scanning the crowd.

"Hell yeah!" Gilbert cheered, pumping a fist. Alfred probably would have joined in with the exubarence if he weren't feeling so awkward.

"Good. Let's go," the Vietnamese girl said impatiently as she hastily made her way through the beautiful lush green garden filled with sakura trees, over a wooden bridge that was placed above a stream filled with koi fish, and then onto a wooden platform. She flicked a number code into a box and the double-glass doors flung open. "Niran, they have arrived," she called. There was a loud crash, and everyone, save for Thuy and Yong Soo, glanced at each other. Then, a frazzled youth dashed into the room. He grinned at them.

"Hello, everyone," he said, pulling at his crumpled blue shirt. "It's been a while." This was directed at his Asian siblings and friends.

Thuy rolled her eyes and walked over to him, grumbling something at him as she adjusted his glasses. "Honestly, you're useless..." she said, pinching his cheek.

"Oww, Thuy!" he whined, rubbing his abused cheek when the girl stopped. The crowd watched on in amusement. "Anyway..." he began, beaming again. "First of all you can put your stuff away in your rooms, and then you shall be guided to separate onsen. Meimei and Thuy will be in one bath, and then we can separate the guys so it won't be too crowded. Does that sound good to everyone?" he asked.

As soon as Gilbert opened his mouth, Ludwig hit him upside the head. "Yes," Yao answered, sweatdropping at the men's antics.

Niran clapped his hands. "Great!" he said. "Follow us and we'll show you the rooms. You guys can pick which you want."

On cue, Heracles and Kiku's hands brushed. Both blushed slightly, but Heracles didn't hesitate to grab the Japanese man's hand fully.

"Hey, Mattie," Alfred began, and Matthew turned to his brother, along with Francis and Arthur. The French man frowned, worried Alfred would want to share a room with his brother. Arthur sent him a sideways glance, blinking when he saw the anxiousness in the sapphire eyes. "You should stay with Francis. You'll probably be the best person to prevent him from, like... molesting everyone and stuff," he said with a grin.

"Thanks, Alfred," Matthew grumbled in response but gave a half-resigned, half-amused nod. "I guess you're right though, eh." He turned to the French man. "Is that okay with you, Francis?" he asked cautiously. "I mean, I wouldn't want to impose or somethi--"

"Oui, oui, tres bien," Francis babbled with a big smile. "Come, let us find our room!" He grabbed Matthew's wrist and dragged him off.

"Guess I'll be alone," Alfred said, and Arthur slowly turned to him. "Unless you wanna stay with me," he added, not giving the Brit time to reply before he said, "But I think I can guess your answer. Well, I'll find somewhere." He gave a wave and began to follow the group.

"Hey, you don't know me!" Arthur shouted angrily, folding his arms, momentarily losing his hands in the long sleeves. "You can't just predict what I'm going to say!" He glared.

"Oh?" the American asked, turning back and raising a brow. "So you _do_ wanna sleep with me?" He didn't realise the innuendo until after he had said it but didn't comment. _It'd only make it more embarrassing..._

"E-er... I..." Arthur stuttered, flushing crimson.

"Thought so." He turned away again. "Later--" His arm was grabbed and he blinked down at the Brit, who was glaring at him in annoyance.

"You are, by far, _the_ most childish man I have _ever_ had the displeasure to meet," he snapped, softening when he saw the hurt in Alfred's eyes. "But, to spare everyone else the torment, I suppose I shall sleep with you. Oh! Erm, stay with you, that is. In the same room. Just not sleeping as in... well, you know." He blushed.

Alfred stared down at him in surprise for a moment before he grinned. "Does this mean you forgive me then?"

"Well..." Arthur sounded uncomfortable. "Matthew seemed to, and you said you'd let us help. So, I suppose so," he said quickly, averting his gaze.

"Of course," said the American haughtily. "Because everyone loves the hero-- ow! Why'd ya hit me?"

"Let's just find our bloody room."

"Can't wait to sleep with me, huh? Ow! Quit it!"

"Stop making sex jokes!"

"You're all red."

"I'm sick!"

"You're defensive~"

"You're obnoxious!"

"A-Arthur! Wait up!"

"Twat."

"Jerk."

"Git."

"Bastard."

"I can't believe I have to tolerate you for so long."

"You've been tolerating my jacket."

"..."

"Exactly."

"Tosser!"

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

_**Axis Powers Hetalia**_** belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

**(**_**1**_**) Niran is Thailand.**

**I don't know why I added the Thailand**_**x**_**Vietnam. It just felt appropriate... and you've got to admit... it would've looked cute when Vietnam adjusted Thailand's glasses. I'll give you an overview of their personalities quickly.**

**Country name: Vietnam.**

**Human name: Thuy Nguyen.**

**Appearance: Long, straight black hair, very dark brown eyes, pale, short, usually wearing an Áo Dài.**

**Personality: Easily annoyed, tries not to show she cares, impatient, easily flustered.**

**Fact: She's mostly based off one of my closest friends. My friend has a really high-pitched giggle, too, so I might add it to one of Thuy's little quirks that Niran loves. ;D**

**Country name: Thailand.**

**Human name: Niran ? (If you have any suggestions for a last name, please let me know.)**

**Appearance: Short, spiky dark brown hair, dark brown eyes.**

**Personality: Laid-back and easy-going, but takes academics seriously and sometimes goes overboard in his work.**

**Please review.**


	16. Heiwa ni kurasu!

Shoji doors built sturdy but traditionally, one open towards the balcony where a gentle and pleasantly cooling breeze wafted in. Tatami flooring with a low table in the middle of it, and blanket-like parts emitting from the sides of it as it was getting close to winter. Closets which doors you also slid out of the way were emitted into the walls, almost camoflaged as the doors were the same pattern as the walls.

"Wow," Alfred surmised, eyes wide and excited.

"How articulate," Arthur drawled with a roll of his eyes and began scanning the room, stopping when he saw a famous Japanese painting sitting on the wall beside the closet.

Alfred just waved his snarky comment off and jogged out to the veranda, eyes widening even more and grinning broadly as he climbed the railing. "Whoa! Arthur, you gotta see this! This view is just _awesome_!" he shouted, laughing gleefully as he opened his arms wide, feeling as if we were flying.

The Brit glanced up from the painting he was staring at and looked back at the picture--he'd always had a soft spot for art and culture--before twisting and gaping at the nineteen-year-old. He let out a series of profanities and hurried out onto the balcony, pulling Alfred down from the railings and clutching the (wonderfully warm and soft) jacket tightly. "Jesus bloody Christ! You fucking idiot! You could have fallen!" he shrieked.

The caramel-haired boy chuckled sheepishly but with amusement flickering in his azure eyes. "I wouldn't have," he said. "I have pretty awesome balance," he boasted, winking at the panicked Englishman, who just glared wearily in response before deflating and turning to go back inside, but a hand grabbed his before he could. "No, seriously," the American said. "Check out the view." He pulled Arthur around and the Brit scowled at him bitterly before acquiesced and turned to see what the bloody git was so transfixed on—

And found himself breathless.

Clutching the railing, his emerald eyes remained pinned on the sight off in the distance; the sun was dipping behind the horizen, glowing various shades of yellows, oranges, pinks and - and it was beautiful. They weren't in an industrial area; they were surrounded by huge luscious gardens filled with a variety of flowers, including some of Kiku's favourites—crysanthemums and sakura—and tonnes of other flowers Arthur could name (he had a bit of a green thumb).

Pebbled pathways lead through a lot of the garden and, in the distance he could make out a beautiful fountain, surrounded by several rose bushes.

"Wow..."

"How articulate, Arthur," Alfred threw at him with a hearty chuckle before leaning against the railing with him, closer than necessary; their shoulders were almost brushing.

"Oh, do shut up," the Brit grumbled but found himself smiling. "It is beautiful..." he breathed. "I haven't been to a garden like this in so long." He closed his eyes as he recalled the time when Elizabeth was still alive and they had gone to visit Bush Gardens and so many other places filled with flowers and trees... Elizabeth loved flowers, and Arthur slowly found himself being entranced by them as well...

He was pulled out of his trance when he noticed a hand being waved in his face. Blinking and jerking back, he frowned at Alfred.

"You were spacing out," the American explained with a shrug. "You are still kinda sick. You wanna lie down or something, old man?"

Arthur spluttered. "I'm only four years older than you!" he shouted furiously, face colouring a deep red as he smacked Alfred's shoulder.

Alfred laughed merrily and grinned at him. "You could've hurt me if you'd wanted," he teased. "You didn't put a lot in that hit."

"Don't get cocky just because I haven't castrated you yet," Arthur snapped in embarassment. "I'm going to get my things off of Gilbert. I'll be right—" He was cut off by his own coughs, but soon recovered. Sniffing, he said, "I'll be right back."

Alfred just watched him go, staring after him even after he had closed the bedroom door. After a long moment, he sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and leant against the railing again and resting his head in his arms.

_I feel so... weird_, he thought blearily, closing his eyes. _After I... kissed... Arthur... I dunno, somethin' just kinda... snapped? I dunno. But I feel different. After seeing how I'd... hurt Mattie... I'd just kinda snapped back into reality and thought, 'What the fuck is wrong with me?' I mean... I don't wanna turn into _him_. I hate that jackass... and yet, I can't help but hear his stupid fucking voice in my head, criticising me about every little thing I do... and I hate it_.

Raising his head from his arms, he stared out at the sunset again. The contrast of the dark landscape with the sunset blinded him for a moment, but he blinked a few times to get used to it. In Tokyo, he knew that it'd be the other way around - a dark sky with lots of flashing lights and bright buildings.

He cocked his head, wondering when it would get dark. _I wanna see the stars..._ he thought, smiling softly, dreamily.

_"Mooom!" he shouted, dashing through the apartment and skidding into his parent's room. Pouting when he didn't see her, he thought for a moment. 'Mom's usually in the kitchen..._ attempting_ to cook...' He sniggered at his thoughts, imagining his mother chasing him with whatever she called 'food' and trying to force it down his throat. She was a _terrible_ cook, but he ate it anyway. "Mooom," he whined again, skipping down the hallway and almost walking right into his little brother. "Mattie!" he said in surprise._

_"Alfred," the other blond replied, unimpressed and hiding behind his stuffed bear._

_"Ya know where mom is?" Alfred asked instantly, choosing not to tease Matthew for once._

_"On the roof," Matthew replied, cuddling Kumajirou closer. "She said something about constellations..."_

_"Thanks, Mattie!" Alfred called, already making a dash for their roof terrace. He saw the ladder already assembled and clambered up it quickly. "Mom!"_

_The blonde woman turned to him with a smile. "Al," she replied quietly, patting the seat next to her. He took the prompt and plopped down._

_"What'cha doin'?"_

_The woman grinned at him, her sapphire eyes sparkling in the moonlight. "Watching the stars," she whispered conspirationally. "They're marvellous, aren't they?" she breathed._

_"Uh..." said Alfred uncertainly, making a face. "Spacemen are kinda cool," he offered, and the woman laughed and ruffled his hair._

_"I've always wanted to go to the moon." She lifted her hand, tilting her head as she watched the stars twinkling behind her hand in the background. "To see the stars and feel weightless... hovering above everything, without earthly limitations..." Her eyes sparkled, the stars reflecting them._

_Alfred stared at her in awe before standing up and clenching his fists. "Mom, I swear I'll become a spaceman and take you to the stars some day!"_

_The woman blinked at him in surprise before softening, and then grinning and dragging him down for a noogie. "Heh, not if I beat you, kiddo!"_

Feeling a pressure on his head, Alfred jumped. _Mom?_ He thought for a moment before noticing Arthur frowning down at him worriedly.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

Alfred blinked. For a moment, he saw his mother standing there, and then when he blinked again, it was Arthur. "Y-yeah," he breathed, turning away. "Yeah, I'm good." He whined when his hair was ruffled, feeling nostalgic and then shocked when Arthur grinned at him.

"You're such a kid," the Brit said, chuckling, and Alfred stared, astonished at the similarity between them... "Honestly, though," Arthur said softly, tilting his head. "Are you feeling well?"

"You're the one that's sick," the American replied after a moment of silence and finally found the strength to grin.

The blond man scrutinised him for a moment before leaning against the railing as well. "I miss someone," _too_.

Alfred blinked, surprised, but didn't speak.

"She was... Her name was Elizabeth." _Was? _Alfred thought, but still said nothing. "She was... beautiful." Arthur smiled wistfully. "She was kind, intelligent and just... amazing. I loved her as soon as I set eyes on her... when I was eleven. At first I thought it was just a crush, but after a couple of years it remained strong, just growing more and more until I just, well, blurted my feeilngs out to her. We were running home from school in the rain. We'd both forgotton our umbrellas. We huddled under a bus stop for shelter. We were utterly _soaked_." He chuckled fondly, not realising Alfred's eyes were stuck on him. "We just talked for a while, and then... then, I just kind of shouted right in her face, 'I love you!'" He sounded sheepish. "She stared at me for a minute before laughing her beautiful laugh... I was probably bright red; I could feel my cheeks burning. And then she kissed me, and I thought I was going to faint.

"To cut a long story short, we went on a series of dates after that, but our dates grew sparse over time as she was very busy. She'd inherited an important job from her father in the government, and then I was working with the force. Both demanding jobs. Anyway, at one point I was... well." He pursed his lips and closed his eyes before taking a deep breath and muttering, "Attacked." He still didn't see the emotions swirling in the blue depths beside him. "Turns out it was some higher-ups in government who didn't take too kindly to their precious Elizabeth going out with an unworthy punk."

"Punk?" Alfred blurted, grinning sheepishly afterwards.

"Erm, yes. Well, that's another story." Arthur coughed into a fist and continued. "In any case... I was framed. The government officials claimed _I'd_ attacked _them_." He snorted. "No doubt they bribed the bloody court. I was _limping_ and still had cuts and bruises. That's the bloody government for you... 's why I turned punk in the first bloomin' place... anyway. I... I felt she'd betrayed me, but I clung onto my remnants of hope." He shook his head bitterly, closing his eyes. "She didn't stand up for me. She'd agreed with _them_. When I'd confronted her, she said, 'Never come near me again.' I was... heartbroken." Here he turned away, arms stiffly by his sides and fists clenched. Without thinking too much ('cause he'd probably chicken out if he did), Alfred gently grabbed Arthur's hand and stroked it with his thumb reasurringly. The Brit jumped slightly but didn't turn around. Nonetheless, he soldiered on.

"I found out... she was pregnant," he blurted in a whisper, shoulders shaking visibly. "I-I don't... It wasn't me!" he hastened to assure him. "But she... I... She had slept with someone and claimed she'd had an abortion." He swallowed, feeling Alfred's eyes boring into his back but didn't care. "Later, I... we... well, you know. We met again, and I was drunk, and she was rebelling, and... she got pregnant again. I had a son. But she didn't have the abortion she mentioned before. I also have a niece." His voice was shaking almost as much as he himself was now.

Alfred hesitated. Arthur was already distraught, but he'd never been good at this sort of thing. "You said she _was_... Y-you know. Past tense 'n' all," he babbled.

A pause.

"She's dead."

Another pause.

"Oh."

Silence, and then, "I saw her die. I was there. But I... didn't do anything to stop it... I didn't save her... I let someone die..." He turned to Alfred and the American's heart lurched at the sight of tears in the Brit's eyes. Cheeks flushed and mouth open as he sucked in as much air as possible, shoulders—his entire freakin' _body_—shaking...

Alfred hugged him. He didn't know how long he was holding Arthur, but eventually he just began swaying back and forth, rubbing the Brit's back comfortingly and just holding him.

What felt like much, _much_ later, the blond slumped in his hold and he slowly lowered both of them to the floor, with Arthur sitting in his lap and leaning against his shoulder, shoulders shaking with held back sobs, and yet no tears spilt over his eyelids. Come to think of it, whenever Arthur seemed close to crying, he always held it in. Biting his lip hard, he tried to put his words together to say something comforting, but he was never good at that kind of thing.

When he finally opened his mouth to say something, he was interrupted by someone clearing their throat. He and Arthur sprang apart, both rather reluctant to do so.

Standing there, grinning knowingly, was Niran. "Sorry to interrupt," he said. "But the hot springs are ready. Would you like to go... or stay here?" He winked.

Blushing, Alfred quickly clambered to his feet and offered Arthur a hand, who took it gratefully. Not taking into account that his legs had been folded for so long, he didn't realise that he'd fall against the younger man's chest and, once again, he ended up in his arms.

_This is really becoming too much_, Arthur thought despondently. _Ay carumba... Oh, this is how bad it's getting. I'm resorting to Spanish. Why did I even _take_ those classes? I'm insane, that's why..._ Realising he was digressing, he finally pulled himself back into reality, looking up into concerned sky-blue eyes, and found himself wondering why it was so difficult to look away.

"Weeell," Niran drawled, still beaming. "When you're both done staring into each other's eyes or reinacting a scene from _Titanic_ or another romantic film, you can head to the baths. Later." He made a peace sign and departed from their room. The American and the Brit stared after him in a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance, before turning back to each other and pulling apart, their hands lingering a little longer than necessary on each other.

Clearing his throat, Arthur muttered, "Shall we then?"

Alfred blinked. "Shall we what?"

"Go to the baths," the blond murmured, thick brows twitching. _Bloody Americans..._

"Oh, right. Yeah, sure, let's go!" the caramel-haired boy grinned and zipped inside to grab a towel from his suitcase, and Arthur did the same albeit a little slower. "Come _on_, old—"

"Don't call me old," the Brit snapped in aggravation, glaring at Alfred. "I'm only twenty-three," he muttered. "Francis, Antonio and Gilbert are all older than me, so there." He resisted the urge to stick his tongue out.

"That explains why you're so short then, huh?" Alfred grinned cheekily, dodging when Arthur threw his towel at him. He grabbed it and tossed it back, slightly impressed when the blond caught it easily without even looking. Did he do any sports?

"_Short_?" Arthur squeaked, then blushed and cleared his throat and glared. "I am _not_ short. _Kiku_ is short!"

"Yeah, but Asians are always kinda short. You've got no excuse." His grin broadened when the flustered blond just gaped and flushed.

"B-but... I'm about the same height as Francis!" Arthur shouted defensively, twitching immensly when the American just ruffled his hair patronisingly, just laughing when the man shouted at him.

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

_**Hetalia Axis Powers **_**belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

**Okay, so... I was going to write the entire onsen scene followed by some stuff happening leading up to other stuff, then karaoke, then more stuff, and then some USxUK... but I decided to separate the chapters because I'm evil. Also, notice how I wrote 'stuff'. ;D I'm not revealing any of my plans to you~ Ore-sama no awesomeee. ***_**coughs**_*** Anyway, getting back into character... I'll start writing the next chapter tonight. Prepare for some heavy metal and rock music. I know Arthur's punk, but I think I'm going to have him sing some metal or rock... they're my favourite genres, particularly the first, so I'm gonna be selfish and have him sing my style. XD Maybe give Al a little lap dance? ;P If you guys want it, that is... Do you? ***_**smirks**_*****

**In English, we're currently read '**_**Of Mice and Men**_**'... It saddens me that George and Lennie remind me of Arthur and Alfred. ***_**headdesk**_*** Everything seems to... But I know the ending, and I don't want it to happen. ***_**groans**_*** Anyway... Hope you enjoyed the latest installement. Sorry it took me a while, guys. I'm swamped with work; I am in my final GCSE (or O-Levels as they used to be called) year, soon to be moving up to sixth form, then uni... It's a tough process, and **_**MerryxMaking**_** can vouch for me here.**

**Oh, and 'Ay carumba,' means 'My God,' basically. You might have heard it on **_**The Simpsons**_**. ...D-don't look at me like that! Everyone watches it! Just because I'm English doesn't mean I can't!**

**Well, please review if you have the time. Thank you.**

_**P.S.: Scones and tea for anyone who can guess what I'll (be forced to) dress as at Halloween? **_**MerryxMaking**_** is the one making me, along with **_**ochotama**_**, so you guys can't guess... but I'll make you scones anyway. **_*****_**blushes**_*** **_**A-anyway... a hint: In my group of friends, I'm England. That's all you're getting.**_

**Adios, amigos! (Not that I like you guys or anything...!)**


	17. Sex on FortyFive!

"Ah..." Alfred said with a relaxed grin as he lowered himself into the hot springs. "This feels good." Cocking his head and smirking teasingly, he asked, "What's wrong, Arthur? Too hot for you?" He winked and laughed when the Brit's already-flushed face became even darker.

Huffing in annoyance, Arthur folded his arms across his torso and turned away to disguise his embarrassment. "Don't be absurd," he snapped, but Alfred was right; he wasn't actually too used to heat. He had lived in England his whole life--mostly London--so he had never really taken well to heat. Once Francis had dragged him to Spain when Antonio invited the French man to go with him, and Arthur had fainted on the _first_ bloody _day_!

"Well, get in then," the American prompted, raising a brow at the prolonged silence that Arthur had initiated.

"_Excuse_ _me_ for not blundering in the bloody water like _you_, gitface!" he shouted, nails digging into his arms.

Alfred held up his hands in surrender, frowning in annoyance. He breathed slowly and tried to calm down, letting his temper sizzle away. "Well," he said, "If you want to stand there and emit a sexual aura until Francis comes dashing out of the springs next to us and molesting you here... then I won't protect you."

The blond man's face was so red that it would impress even Lovino. Muttering profanities, Arthur reluctantly and very slowly stepped into the hot spring, wincing only slightly when he first touched the water. He shivered when he got into it properly; the antagonistic effectors of his cold body temperature (he was never precisely 37 degrees celcius; he was usually a bit lower) and the heat of the spring--he could feel the heat waves coming off of it when he was undressing inside!--was insane. He sat opposite Alfred so that they wouldn't have any more... incidents... and in case anyone walked in. Like Kiku. Or Francis.

Arthur looked up from the hot water and jerked in surprise when he saw Alfred staring at him. Furrowing his bushy brows and scowling, he muttered, "What is it?"

The caramel-haired boy blinked as if he hadn't realised he'd been staring and flushed slightly. _Did I just imagine that...? I-it has to be the heat_, thought Arthur. "Nothing."

"Right." Feeling immensly uncomfortable in the present situation, Arthur sunk down until the water was just under his nose and blew out a sigh which came up as bubbles.

The American continued watching him for a minute before blurting, "You're kinda skinny."

Arthur stopped blowing bubbles and looked up, frowning. "I beg your pardon?" he muttered.

Alfred blushed a little again and rubbedd the back of his neck sheepishly, giving Arthur a perfect view of his toned abs glistening with water droplets...

_Brilliant_, Arthur thought cynically as he sunk into the water again. _Now _I'm_ blushing... again_.

"It's just," Alfred said, not having noticed Arthur's gaze. "You're twenty-three, right? Normally a twenty-three year old would be, y'know... taller. And not so small. And stuff."

The blond twitched. "I am tall," he mumbled sulkily.

"I'm taller than you and I'm younger..."

"Ludwig's taller than Gilbert and _he_'s younger!" Arthur snapped defensively and closed his eyes. "Case closed, shut the fuck _up_."

Alfred did so. But not for long.

"Do you ever eat _McDonald_'s?"

The Brit didn't open his eyes. "No," he lied.

"Liar. Everyone does."

Arthur didn't respond.

"What do you eat most then?"

"Scones."

"Scones? Like pastry... things?"

"Yes, you intolerant twat." He twitched.

"They've got no taste." Arthur twitched again.

"More so than your junk food."

"No way! McD's have so much flavour!"

"Yes, because they're packed with calories and--"

"But they taste good!"

"Only because they're so unhealthy!"

"Well, British cooking sucks ass!"

Arthur gasped as if he'd been slapped. "Yo-you... How _dare_ you?" he screamed. "British cooking has very _refined_ taste and American food is just - it's just disgusting!"

"I bet you can't cook!"

"And you _can_?"

"Better than you, that's for sure!"

"Why you little--"

It was at his point Arthur realised he was practically in Alfred's lap, his hands on the boy's shoulders and face bearly inches away. Immediately his face heated up and he jumped away, but his arm was caught. "Arthur..."

"L-let go, you idiot..." the Brit ordered weakly, feebly pulling away from the strong grasp his arm was locked in. _This kid is too strong. It's abnormal_, he thought vaguely as he struggled in the American's hold, clenching his eyes shut so he could be spared the embarrassment of seeing the emotions in his and vice versa...

"What if I don't want to?" Alfred countered in a quiet tone, voice low and slightly husky.

Arthur clenched his shut eyes tighter, resisting the urge to open them when he felt his chin being pulled. He knew he was facing Alfred now, and it felt... it felt so odd. He was beginning to feel lightheaded, and his stomach was churning... "Brat," he scoffed softly.

"You're trembling."

"I'm cold," he lied.

"In this temperature?" Silence. "I thought so." Another pause. "Open your eyes... Arthur..."

Agonisingly slowly, piercing vibrant emerald green eyes fluttered open to meet pure sky blue eyes swirling with mixed emotions. He leant down as the American leant up to the man he was holding loosely in his arms.

Black was dotting his vision and his head felt so light and dizzying, and the blues he saw were swirling...

"Arthur? Arthur!"

_Sky blue eyes..._

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

"Is he gonna be okay?"

Kiku looked up from his friend's flushed face and smiled at Alfred in reasurrance as he put a cool flannel on Arthur's forehead, dabbing lightly. "He will be fine," he assured him. "People often faint in the hot springs... They simply aren't used to the heat," he explained. "Niran-kun or I should have gone with you two to assure this would not happen... I apologise for that." He bowed his head slightly.

"Uh... it's fine," Alfred replied, finding Kiku's speech odd.

"He should be all right when he wakes up. Just make sure he drinks water. You may come down to the karaoke room when you are ready." He stood and bowed, and then left the room, leaving Alfred sitting cross-legged next to Arthur's fuuton, staring down at the unconscious man in agitation and hidden worry.

"Why didn't you tell me you were feelin' dizzy or somethin'? I would've got out with you..." he muttered and poked the Brit's warm cheek, who furrowed his thick brows and whined in response, making the younger man chuckle softly, but he stopped when he heard another sound emit from the man and noticed the green eyes fluttering open, noticing the way his eyelashes brushed against his pale skin and... He started. _Wh-what the... the hell? I look at 'im for a second and I'm suddenly realising how he looks when he's sleeping and... His hair's really messy. I wonder what it feels like...?_ His fingers twitched, and he felt like reaching out to touch the mop-top. Swallowing, he raised his hand and almost thread his fingers through the blond hair when he saw those pools of emerald staring up at him, and he pulled his hand back as if burned. "Uh... Arthur?" he asked tentatively. "You, uh, feelin' okay there, pal?"

Groaning softly, the blond man pushed himself up, ignoring the damp flannel falling into his lap. "Ugh... Yes," he grumbled. "I think I need a drink though," he said.

Looking doubtful, Alfred muttered, "Yeah, I dunno if that's such a good idea. You were sick last time."

The Brit rolled his eyes. "Don't be a bleeding pussy," he muttered with a small smirk that looked almost... feral?

_Should I be scared?_ Alfred thought nervously before he scowled. "Shut up," he snapped. "I'm not afraid of anything! I'm a hero!"

Arthur quirked a brow and smiled sardonically. "Sorry to dampen your spirits, kid," he said, running a hand through his hair. Alfred watched the movement, fixated, before glaring again. "But I don't believe in '_heroes_'," he scoffed, unaffected when the caramel-haired boy growled.

"Well, I'll show ya!" he declared, standing and punching his chest. "I'll show you that heroes do exist, and that I'm one!"

"Whatever," was the muffled response as Arthur had spoken into his arm, before pushing himself up. He swayed for a moment before regaining his composure. "I'm getting a drink."

Alfred stared after him in a mixture of annoyance, desperation and, much to his chagrin, concern. Groaning, he went after the Brit, wondering, _Why the hell did it have to be me looking after some old drunkard?_

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

"Bloody brilliant that there're drinks in the karaoke room," Arthur drawled, and Alfred couldn't tell if he were being sarcastic or not so he just nodded and watched the man chug the rest of his second pint.

"I think you've had enough now," he mumbled, frowning, as he reached over to take back the blond man's glass, only to have his hand slapped away.

"Twat," the man barked. "Th's 's nothing," he slurred. "The night I met you, I'd had near enough four pints," he said.

"A lot of good that did you," the American remarked irately.

"Hombres! You should join in with the karaoke!" a heavily Spanish accented voice called, and Alfred turned to see Antonio (or "The Guy Who Sat Next to Arthur on the Plane", as Alfred knew him) waving them over. The caramel-haired boy nodded with a small grin and then raised a brow at the current singer - Francis was singing something in French and staring right at his brother. He knew Matthew could speak French, so he was rather suspicious when he saw his brother's cheeks were glowing bright red.

"Y-you're such a sap, Fra-Francis," Arthur slurred with a sadistic smirk, and Alfred briefly wondered why Antonio shuddered when he saw it. "C'mon, sing something with more, y'know..." He made wild hand gestures.

"If you are so sure of yourself, why do you not 'ave a go, Arthur?" Francis suggested, smirking back.

"Maybe I will," the Brit replied haughtily, shoving himself up and staggering over to the makeshift stage at the front of the room, Alfred following and sitting near the front, ready in case the intoxicated man fell. He blinked in surprise when Arthur grabbed a spare guitar and adjusted it, making an annoyed face until he tuned it properly. He grabbed the mic and said, surprisingly without much of a slur, "_Sex on Forty-Five_," he said huskily, sticking his tongue out and winking, and a few people spat our their beverages. "By the _Sex Pistols_." And then his nimble fingers danced over the strings, playing a strong, rebellious tune, and then he belted out, "Hey, hey!  
Remember that day  
in nineteen seventy-six  
when London Town was boring?  
until along came this!"

_Arthur sure can scream. Holy crap, I wouldn't have thought he'd be into this kinda music... _thought Alfred, staring in shock at the man on stage, giving out some _awesome_ power chords.

"You're only twenty-nine;  
you got a lot to learn.  
I'm a lazy sod,  
I'm a lazy sod.

"A' no feelings,  
a' no feelings  
for anybody else  
except for myself."

Here he met Alfred's eyes, his own glinting with emotions the American couldn't name, but somehow he didn't think the lyrics were true.

"Turn the page and it's  
the scoop of the century.  
Don't wanna be L seven; I had enough of this.  
This is brainwash and this is a clue  
to the stars who fooled you."

Here he tossed the guitar over to Gilbert, who caught it easily, somehow seemingly _used_ to this astonishing behaviour. At Arthur's look, he shrugged and began playing nearly as flawlessly as Arthur had. The Brit smirked and grabbed the mic, jumping off stage and pulling at Alfred's collar, making him look up in shock.

"There's no point in asking; you'll get no reply.  
Oh, just remember, a' don't decide.  
I got no reason; it's too all much.  
You'll always find us out to lunch, out on lunch."

Alfred felt the other's hot breath against his face, on his lips, and he could smell the beer Arthur had consumed and suddenly wondered how it would taste. He leant forward but was pushed back in his seat, but he just became even more shell-shocked when the man threw himself on his lap. "A-Arthur...?" he breathed, eyes wide.

Grinning sadistically, Arthur continued singing huskily, "Oh, we're so pretty." Alfred had to agree at this point in time.  
"Oh, so pretty we're vacant.  
Oh, we're so pretty.  
Oh, so pretty we're vacant.  
Ah, but now and we don't care."

Suddenly his semi-quiet voice departed and he shouted in Alfred's face, "God save the queen,  
The fascist regime!  
They made you a moron;  
Potential H-_bomb_!"

At the word bomb, he had thrust his hips against the American's, whose eyes bulged and he grit his teeth to hold back a groan. His fingers were digging into the sides of his seat, his grip almost painful.

"When there's no future,  
how can there be sin?  
We're the flowers in the dustbin,  
We're the poison in your human machine;  
We're the future for _you_!"

He weaved his arms roughly around the caramel-haired boy's neck and tugged on his hair to pull his head back, grinning sadistically down at the helpless boy.

"I am an antichrist,  
I am an anarchist!  
Don't know what I want,  
but I know how to get it.  
I wanna destroy the passerby.

"'Cause I wanna be _anarchy_...  
in the UK!"

His lips ghosted over the younger man's, his hot breath just simply tantalising and his heated body was against his, the Brit's bum right slap-bang _there_ and it just--

"No future, no future,  
No future for you.  
No future, no future,  
No future for me.

"No future, no future.  
No future for you.  
No future, no future.  
No future for you.  
No future, no future for _you_!"

Unable to resist any longer, Alfred's hands from beneath the chair shot up, wove around Arthur's back, pulled him completely flush against him and crashed their lips together.

**O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O**

_**Axis Powers Hetalia **_**belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

**Also, so I don't get sued... I don't own **_**McDonald**_**'s... obviously. XD Nor do I own any of the **_**Sex Pistols**_** lyrics... unfortunately. ***_**kicks wall**_*** Then, I'd probably be arrested for it. XD;**

**I had so much bloody effin' homework. As Ghost Nappa would say, "This shit just got real up in this bitch." Damn right.**

**Today in Wimbledon, my cousin and I were discussing the differences between America and England, and he hasn't even seen **_**Hetalia**_**. He knows of it, but hasn't watched/read any of it. Basically, an overview of what he said was how in America you can just talk to almost anyone, whereas here, everyone'll think you're a bloody loony unless asking for directions, and even then everyone's hesitant to do so. And on Saturday, I said, "America was our colony once," to which he replied, "Yeah, America's our bitch. Except... it seems to be the other way around, seeing as they always seem to seme us." XD Daaamn, we're insulting ourselves. D: I swear, I'm patriotic. I can't stop listening to **_**Vindaloo**_**. XD Well, hope you enjoyed this chapter, guys! Scones all around~**

**Prussia will play you a song if you review. ;D**


	18. Shirimasen!

As soon as he regained consciousness, he felt a mixture of feeling overcome him. He was disgusted with Arthur. With himself. He wanted to be sick. He wanted to shout at Arthur, to hurt him, demand, _Why are you making me feel like this? You're a man, and I'm a man. It's illogical. I can't feel this way about you. What have you done to me? What have you done?_ But, beyond the sickening feeling of revulsion over his new predicament, he felt some kind of... _fluttering_ sensation. It felt nice. It only served to make him angrier. _I don't understand this!_ He screamed in his mind, nails scraping the floor furiously, teeth grinding tightly before he heaved a long sigh.

_What have I done?_

He was laying down on the tatami flooring with an arm over his face, blocking out his vision. He didn't want to 'wake up', but he already was. He couldn't block his thoughts. He didn't know what to do. He could occupy himself to take his mind off of... off of...

_Unable to resist any longer, Alfred's hands from beneath the chair shot up, wove around Arthur's back, pulled him completely flush against him and crashed their lips together._

Alfred groaned in frustration and rolled over onto his side. He ran his fingers through his hair, and then couldn't help but think, _Arthur's hair... it looks so messy... but it's so soft..._ He wanted to ruffle the dirty blond hair again, mess it up even more than it was, to feel Arthur's cold, porcelein skin, to feel their hands brush, their lips collide...

_I'm revolting_, he surmised, rolling back onto his back and gritting his teeth tightly. _Disgusting. Repulsive. This is wrong. This is wrong_, he repeated, hearing another voice underlying his. _Dad. Dad would be disappointed. When dad was disappointed... he'd hurt mom... I can't disappoint dad... I don't want mom to get hurt... Mom, don't leave... Mattie and I need you... Mom..._

He opened his eyes quickly, trying not to fall back into those memories. Shaking his head to rid himself of those dejected thoughts, he pushed himself up into a sitting position and reluctantly glanced towards the fuuton several feet away, surprised to note that Arthur wasn't in it. Blinking, he sat up properly on his knees. _Where the hell could he be?_ He wondered, brows drawing together as he glanced around the room, and then noticed that the door to the veranda was unlocked. He glared at it in deep thought for a long while before standing up and slowly making his way over to his. His hand ghosted above the metal handle, and he remained in that position for a good few minutes before swearing at himself and leaving the room. _Fuck that. Talkin' to him will only make things worse. I bet he doesn't even remember. He was_ drunk_. Drunk, for fuck sake. He's not gonna remember... k-kiss... What happened last night. Jesus H. Christ. The fuck am I gon' do? Who could I possibly talk to about this?_ Shaking his head and going to grab his jacket, only to realise it wasn't there (and vowing to search for it later and kill the fucker who stole it), he opened his room's door, only to meet intense blue eyes.

"The... The hell d'_you_ want?"

**O-o-O-o-O**

"May I get you a drink, Alfred?"

"Just say what you wanted to say," the American bit out, evidently not in the mood for a friendly chat. "I'm busy."

"Oh?" the other man enquired, quirking a brow in inquisition. "Doing what? Obsessing over Arthur?" He sounded way too casual for Alfred's liking.

"Hey, now," he muttered, flushing red from shame and anger. "I'm not interested in men."

"Could 'ave fooled me. Barkeep, please get us some wine," he said vaguely, too focused on the conversation to give the name of a specific wine.

Alfred sat in silence, glaring steadily at Francis for a long while before letting his glower lower to the table. When a glass of _something_ was slammed down in front of him, he muttered an ungrateful thanks and downed it in one.

"I didn't bring you 'ere to get drunk, Alfred," his fellow blond muttered in disapproval, swirling his wine before taking a small sip.

"If you don't want someone to get drunk," Alfred advised as he signalled for another, "Don't take 'em to a bar."

"Hmm," Francis agreed disinterestedly. "I wanted to speak with you."

"Really." It wasn't a question.

"About Arthur."

"I see."

Silence. And then, "You are so obnoxious. You and Arthur deserve each other."

Alfred felt anger bubbling up inside of him and he stood quickly, slamming his hands down on the wooden bar, ignoring the bartender's annoyance. "Whassat s'post ta mean, huh?" he shouted furiously.

Francis levelled him with a scowl that made him feel like a child who was acting out of order. He hated feeling that way. Slowly, he forced himself to calm down and took his seat quietly with an ounce of dignity left, and then he downed his second glass of the red stuff.

"I mean," the French man began again, once sure the younger man was actually listening calmly and wasn't going to throw another fit... yet. "You are an obnoxious, annoying, stubborn, aggravating little bastard who still acts like a rebellious and 'ormonal fifteen year old, and Arthur's an emotionally-stunted, rude, _stubborn_," he emphasised stubborn to signify how both the American and Briton were both that word. Alfred grunted. "Old codger."

"He's younger than you. By, like, three years."

"Think what you will," Francis continued, uncaring of the rude comment. He was evidently used to it from Arthur. "I am trying to tell you something." Blue eyes clashed, and Alfred was actually shocked by how serious the flirtatious man's were at that moment. "You obviously have issues. I don't know what zey are, nor am I going to push you to tell me, because, to be perfectly 'onest, I do not really care." He swirled his wine, eyes dropping down to watch the ripples in the scarlet liquid. _Harsh_, Alfred thought vaguely. "But Arthur, for some reason, obviously cares about you. Maybe it is because 'e is a lonely old man with no one to love." _He's younger than you, damn it! _"Maybe it is because 'e lost the only person he had ever let himself fall properly in love with." _He looked so sad when he told me that..._ "Maybe it is because his child was taken away from 'im." _No one would wanna go through that..._ "Maybe it is because of 'is abandonment issues due to - oh, dear. I 'ave said too much already. This is what 'appens when you drink too much." Alfred stared incredulously at him. He'd not even finished half of his first glass. "Alfred."

"What?" He looked into Francis' eyes again, trying not to look away. Why did they look so... defeated? Remorseful?

"If you want to be in Arthur's life," he said, softly but sternly, not moving his gaze, "You have to take care of 'im... and your_self_. Let 'im 'elp you, because 'e is a bit of a control freak. But that is because 'e is scared. 'E let Elizabeth go because 'e claims 'e '_couldn't control 'er enough, nor 'imself_,' and... someone else... well, I should let 'im tell you." He stood up, downed his glass of wine, and patted Alfred on the shoulder. "You 'ave to 'elp each _other_, or you just might break down. I don't think Arthur would be..." He shook his head, obviously intent on keeping silent about something for some reason. "Anyway, enjoy the rest of your 'oliday. Maybe you should go and visit Arthur on the veranda, non?"

Before Alfred could ask how the French man knew about all that, Francis was already slinging an arm around Matthew and speaking lightheartedly.

"What was that about, Francis? Alfred looks kind of distraught, eh..." Alfred heard his brother say softly.

"Non, non, Matthieu! It is all fine! Papa Francis has sorted everything!"

"That's good, then, eh..."

"Would you like to thank me for 'elping your brother out, Matthieu?"

"Erm... Th-thank you, Francis?"

Alfred stood, ready to help his brother in case Francis tried to take it further, but he blinked in surprise when the French man just smiled at the Canadian and tightened his hold around Matthew's shoulders before asking if he wanted to go for a walk. He briefly expected his brother to refuse, but was again astounded when he saw Matthew smile happily and nod.

He watched the two depart from the bath house and into the intricate garden that... _Arthur had been staring at it, hadn't he? And... he was on the veranda just now..._

He stared at the door his brother and Francis had left through not too long ago for a moment in deep thought before turning on his heel and leaving the bar, not noticing two men hiding under a table together.

"Poor kid," one of them said haughtily. "If only he were as awesome as me, then he'd have it in the bag."

"Ahahaha! Gilbert, you are so self-absorbed! Maybe this is why Elizaveta likes your brother?"

"Shut the fuck up, Antonio. That was low. Besides, she only likes him 'cause she hasn't seen how awesome I am yet!"

"Because you act so _unromantic_ around her, sí?"

"Don't be stupid, Antonio! Bah! Whatever! Let's just get a drink. You're paying! I'm too awesome to pay!"

"Sí, I thought so." _Dios Mio. Senor Alfred will have it cut out for him. Arthur is a very scary person... How did Francis put up with him for so long?_

**O-o-O-o-O**

The door creaked as it closed and clicked shut rather loudly. Alfred winced at the noise. Did Arthur hear him? He remained still for a moment in case the Brit jumped out to hit him with some punk guitar or a copy of Jane Austen's _Pride and Prejudice_ or... or something British.

He creeped (in his opinion, quite slyly) towards the veranda doors, and placed his hand firmly on the handle. Swallowing, he pressed down and opened the door and...

"_You_ have my jacket!" he blurted, noticing the Brit jump and swerve around. "I was lookin' for it!" _But it kinda looks nice on him... Even though it's really big for him_.

"I-I apologise," Arthur said softly, coughing into his fist and shifting uncomfortably.

Silence. "You not gonna take it off, then?"

Arthur turned bright red. "Well," he huffed, "You were inside. I'm outside. So, it's only logical that _I _use it. You weren't anyway. You were sleeping."

"I woke up a while ago, actually," he snapped back.

The dirty-blond blinked. "You did?" He turned away again quickly, but Alfred could see that even his _ears_ were red. "W-well," he said meekly, and then cleared his throat and said firmly, "Well. Um. I..."

"Yeah?" _Not very composed for a 'gentleman'..._

"I'm..." He seemed to struggle, and he looked very nervous but frustrated at the same time. "I'm a therapist."

Now the American was really confused. "Uh. Okay?"

"Wh-what I'm trying to say is..." He gestured with his hands.

"You're Italian?" Alfred half-joked, half-guessed.

"Shut up," Arthur huffed. Alfred kind of wanted to see his face to see his thick eye brows furrow underneath his soft, choppy fringe above those big, bright emerald eyes and... _Shit._ "I-I'm a therapist - _y-your_ therapist. In the future, anyway. S-so, this is... What happened was..." He fidgited before whirling around and glaring at Alfred. "It was your first lesson!" he declared, pointing dramatically, only to feel like an idiot when Alfred eyed him like he'd belong in a looney bin.

"First lesson," Alfred repeated, not knowing if to be amused or insulted. He went with the latter.

"Y-yeah..." Arthur said weakly.

"Don't fucking take the piss," the American growled. "Look at me. Arthur, look at me," he ordered, and his anger grew when the Brit didn't respond. He took two long strides over to Arthur and grabbed his arms roughly.

Fear flashed in Arthur's eyes for a second. "Alfred, we're on a veranda. We could fall," he said, keeping a calm tone. Alfred didn't buy it, but he didn't care either.

"Maybe that'd be best," the American hissed, tightening his grasp on Arthur's shoulders. The Englishman didn't react. "Maybe it'd be good if we died. I'm fucking messed up anyway, and you're obviously fucked up too. Maybe it'd be fitting. It was good you kissed me." Arthur's eyes widened at this bit and he turned crimson, ashamed. "Yeah, it was good. Like Francis said, we deserve each other. 'Cause we're both so damn fucked up and disgusting and _wrong_ and..."

"Alfred, calm down," Arthur soothed quietly. "This isn't you speaking. It's someone else. It isn't you saying this."

Alfred shook his head in denial. "Don't tell me what I am! Who I am!"

"I'm not," the smaller man said quietly. "I'm telling you the truth. This isn't you who thinks it's disgusting. Someone else is speaking _for_ you. Alfred, who are _you_? What do _you_ think? Feel? Love? Hate? Not what someone else thinks, but _you_." He tilted his head, staring imploringly into Alfred's conflicted and tormented blue eyes. "Alfred," he repeated, "Who are _you_?"

_"It's your fault, Alfred! This is all your fault! It's all 'cause of you, Alfred!"_

_"Alfred, honey, I love you. Don't ever forget that."_

_"Alfred, why isn't daddy moving?"_

"I don't know..." Alfred whispered, eyes wide but unseeing, as he stared fearfully downwards. "I don't know who I am. I'm... I'm..."

_"Alfred, you're revolting! Disgusting! Why did you turn out this way? I wish I persuaded your mother to have an abortion!"_

_"Alfred, you know why I call you honey? It's because you're so sweet!"_

_"Alfred, you're the best big brother ever!"_

"I'm..."

_"It's all your fault she's dead!"_

_"Alfred... I-is mommy sleeping?"_

"Alfred."

Alfred finally looked up from the ground and stared into Arthur's eyes fretfully.

"You're Alfred," the Englishman said gently. "And I'm going to help you see that. Alfred..."

_"Alfred, you're a hero, honey! Are you gonna grow up to me my little Superman?"_

"You're _you_. Not someone else. Who are _you_, Alfred? I can answer that. Anyone can. But can you?"

"I..." _Who am I?_ "I'm..." _My name... I know my name is Alfred, but what's in a name? _"I'm Alfred F. Jones."

"I didn't ask your name."

_How do I answer that question? "Who are you?" It doesn't make sense._

"I... I don't know how to answer it."

_Who am I?_

"Then I'll help you. But only you can answer it. I can't do it for you."

_Who are you?_

"Then... who're _you_?"

"Me? Honestly, I don't know yet."

"Then how can you help me?"

"Maybe... we-we can... help each other?"

_"You have to take care of 'im... and your_self_. Let 'im 'elp you, because 'e is a bit of a control freak. But that is because 'e is scared."_

Alfred looked at Arthur for a long moment, and then he pulled the older man against him and clung on as if he were clinging for life. "Who are we?" he whispered weakly, clutching the smaller man so tight he was surprised the fragile body he was holding didn't break.

"I don't know."

**O-o-O-o-O**

_**Axis Powers Hetalia **_**belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

**This story's going to get a bit confusing for a while, but not to worry. It will all be explained later on. I'd give you a hint, but it would make it too obvious. Anyway, I apologise sincerely for lack of updates. I've had my GCSEs to study for (English exams you take when you're about 15/16. Not sure what the American equivalent would be, if there is one), and there have been some personal issues, so please forgive me. I'll try not to let my updates be so sporadic or take so long in the future. Again, I'm really sorry that this took so long. It shouldn't happen again, but I'm not going to promise it won't, because I'll probably break that.**

**On another note, Sealand is going to be in the next chapter, but only over the phone. He'll be a big part of this story later, though, so you'll get some SuFin pretty soon. Keep voting on pairings, by the way. I think they're about even... You guys don't want to make this easy for me, do you?**

**I have a feeling that asking for reviews is kind of suicidal... I haven't updated in a while, so I kind of deserve a lecture. Sorry again though. I know how aggravating it is when you like a story and they don't update for ages. Anyway, I hope to have the next chapter up this week. But, as a warning, I do have GCSEs from next week onwards for a couple of weeks, but I'll still _try_ to get more chapters up. Ja ne.**


	19. Ohayo watashi no kioku! I

The first thing he registered was the familiar feeling of pain all over. His muscles ached and his head was pounding and he could feel an agonising pain shoot up his back from his arse. He swallowed quickly and his eyelids fluttered as he tried to dismiss the pain. This happened frequently, so he tried to ignore it. He knew what had happened. He used to be traumatised and horrified and disgusted, but now he just accepted it as part of his life. Sucking in a deep breath, he opened his eyes, surprised to see a shakey teenager at his beside. "Raivis..." he whispered, voice hoarse. He coughed to clear his throat, wincing when it just hurt his back more.

"A-are you o-okay, T-Toris?" the fifteen-year-old asked quietly, violet eyes wide and his knuckles white as he grasped a bloodied rag between his reddened fingers. Toris then realised he wasn't wearing his trousers and flushed lightly. This happened often too; after he had fallen unconscious after his body had been used and abused by Ivan, Raivis always managed to drag his body to a bed and always tended to him. They never spoke of what had occurred prior to the injuries though. Never.

The brunet smiled tiredly at the younger man. "I'll be fine," he answered softly, shifting painfully and trying not to cringe for Raivis's sake. "Where... Where is Ivan?" he murmured quietly.

The blond boy swallowed and his eyes darted around the room as if making sure no one could hear. "H-he said he h-had a job to do," the boy replied nervously, "H-he won't be back for a while... P-probably tomorrow evening."

Toris frowned in bemusement. "Did he mention where he was going?"

"Does he ever?" Raivis muttered, and the older man didn't respond. He doubted he was intended to hear the teenager's murmurs. He was just so used to listening out for little noises to hint at when and whom was near him. He didn't sleep a lot because of it. He sighed wistfully, remembering when he was at university with Feliks, studying for his medical degree. _A lot of good that did me_, he thought bitterly, _When have I ever used it? On undercover missions and to aid a criminal. It's despicable and degrading..._ Sighing, he shook his head to dismiss his thoughts, watching sadly as Raivis wet the bloodied cloth and proceeded to clean the rest of the dried blood off of Toris's legs.

**O-o-O-o-O**

It was quite peaceful. They were walking amongst the various flowers and sakura trees, hearing the sounds of water in the background...

"Why aren't you talking to me?" Alfred whined, attempting to act normal to dismiss the awkward atmosphere from earlier. He huffed sulkily when Arthur didn't respond but continued watching the man from behind, scowling childishly at him but silently assessing him. His thought process was interrupted when he noticed the Brit's shoulders shaking slightly. Lips quirking slightly, Alfred shrugged his jacket off and put it over Arthur's shoulders, flushing in embarrassment and averting his eyes when the older man blinked at him before blushing and pulling the jacket closer.

"Thanks," he mumbled, staring at the floor intently.

The taller man glanced at him. "_Now_ you're talking?" he asked in shock, raising a brow before pausing and laughing. "Were you sulking?" he teased, sniggering.

"What?" Arthur squawked, cheeks darkening. "Of course not!" he protested, grunting his surprise when the younger man's face appeared centimetres in front of his own. _Don't blush, idiot..._ "What...?" he began awkwardly.

"You were sulkin' 'cause you wanted my jacket, right?" Alfred laughed heartily, and Arthur stared at him in awe for a moment, wondering why the guy was _so bloody handsome_ before squashing the thought and forcing himself to glare.

"I was not!" he shouted, but clutched the jacket in case Alfred tried to take it back.

"Don't blame you," the American said haughtily, jumping on a wall and beginning to walk across it despite Arthur's vehemenent stuttered protests, and stuck his arms out to balance. "I mean, it's pretty damn awesome - whoa!" he cried, wobbling dangerously when he slipped slightly.

Arthur was too concerned to care about retorting. "Get down from there," he snapped impatiently, "You're going to fall."

"I'm not a kid," Alfred replied, rolling his eyes, but he was still wobbling.

"You're nineteen," Arthur muttered, "Although legally an adult, I doubt your mentality. Get down," he ordered.

The taller man scowled. "That's insulting," he grumbled but let the anger disperse. _He didn't mean it. Calm down, Alfred. Calm down_. "I'm pretty sure I can keep my balance," he assurred the older man, flashing a shakey thumbs up. Arthur eyed him suspiciously and edged a little closer so that he could help the idiot if he fell. "Nice weather," Alfred suddenly commented.

Arthur blinked. "It's rather cold," he muttered, bemused.

"You should be used to it. You're British." The American shrugged, and Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Do kindly shut up, Alfred," the shorter man drawled. "England has nice weather sometimes. It does rain _every_ day."

"Pretty much every day though," Alfred retorted, sticking his tongue out. "In America, it's hot most of the time..."

"Similar to Spain and various other countries. Yes, Alfred," the other man replied, "I'm aware of the weather in America."

Alfred cocked his head, worrying Arthur. _Watch where you walk! You could fall, idiot!_ "You been there?"

"Beg your pardon?" Arthur looked back up at Alfred, so into his internal lecture that he hadn't heard the boy.

"I asked if you've been to America," Alfred repeated with a roll of his eyes. "Old man."

"I'm only twenty three!" the Brit squawked and huffed. "But yes," he relented quietly, "I have."

The American waited for a moment, wondering if Arthur was going to elaborate. "So...? What did you think of it?"

"It was... alright, I suppose," the man mumbled sulkily.

"Alright? _Alright_?" Alfred repeated incredulously, eyes wide. "That's it."

"Beg pardon?"

"Someday, I'm takin' you back to the land of the free and the home of the brave! I'm gonna take you to the good ol' US of A!" He winked.

Arthur blanched and opened his mouth to protest but, seeing the hopeful light in those big blue eyes, found he couldn't. He gave a long-suffering sigh and muttered, "Yes, fine, whatever. Idiot."

"Awesome! We can - Fuck!" he cursed at the end, cut off. Arthur whirled around and rushed to grab the idiot's hand without a second thought, but didn't realise that he wasn't any match for Alfred's strength and weight, and they both went tumbling over the wall.

"Shit!" Arthur cursed in a somewhat high-pitched voice.

Alfred glanced at him fretfully. _That sonded almost like a scream... I wonder what he'd sound like-- Stop it! Bad thoughts, bad thoughts, bad thoughts!_ Willing away his blush, Alfred's arm shot out. "Grab my hand!" he ordered, surprised when the Englishman did just that. He pulled the smaller man flush against him as they fell. "Feels like we're flying, huh?" he asked shakily.

"Idiot," Arthur gasped against him, clutching the boy's shoulders as they finally hit the ground and rolled down a grassy bank and into mildly warm water. Both were thankful that the Asian family had a hot springs, or else the water would freeze their arses off.

They rose to the surface, holding onto one another and panting heavily to regain their breath.

"You alright, Arthur?" Alfred asked once he had regained his breath, and looked down at the man he was holding and who, in turn, was clinging onto him. He, at that point, realised their position and flushed in shame and resentment and disgust - _You're hugging a man!_ - but fought off the voice in his head and repeated the question.

"Yeah. Er, yes, I'm fine." The Brit looked up, green eyes wide, still obviously shocked by the abrupt event. The American pushed away the automatic thought of, _Cute..._ "Are you?"

"Of course I am," Alfred reassurred him, grinning. "I'm a hero!"

The Englishman rolled his eyes. "It was _also_ said 'hero' who fell off the bloody wall and dragged me with him." He huffed and scowled.

"Hey, you're the one who grabbed me when you knew I was gonna fall..." he began, and then blinked. "Why did you do that anyway?"

The Brit flushed. "I wasn't just going to stand back and let you fall," he muttered, looking down in embarrassment. "Even _I'm_ not that mean."

"I don't think you're mean," Alfred said quickly, and then blushed upon realising he'd spoken out loud.

Arthur stared at him in surprise for a moment before his lips quirked into the most gentle, caring smile Alfred had ever since ever since - _Mom... _**(1)**

"Thank you," the shorter man said happily, and Alfred just nodded jerkily.

_"Mom! Mooom! I can't do this tie!" Alfred whined as he ran to his mother's room. Not bothering to knock, he barged right in and blinked in surprise when he saw his mother wearing an elegant white gown that fell to the floor like gentle ocean waves, and beneath the white corset, the flowing skirt part of the dress sparkled. Patterns of butterflies and fairies lined the hem of her skirt, and when she turned, she just seemed to glow._

_"C'mere, honey," she said kindly, kneeling down. "Mommy will fix it for you."_

_Alfred obeyed and jogged over to her in his tux, tugging in annoyance at his too-small blazer. "It's been a really long time since dad made us go to a banquet thing," he muttered, "My suit doesn't even fit no more."_

_"Anymore," his mother corrected gently. "But, yes," she agreed as he fixed his tie effortlessly, "We aren't usually... needed. This time, however, your father's trying to get a promotion, and his boss likes familial gatherings." She sighed wistfully, probably remembering something, but she didn't speak of it. She then put her slender hands on Alfred's shoulders and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Come on, darling," she said, standing and holding out her hand. "Let's go get your brother and get this over with before I suffocate in this thing."_

_"Mom looks nice in anything!" Alfred reassurred her quickly, and flushed when she beamed at him._

_"Thank you, sweetheart," she said kindly, squeezing his hand. "I know you'll be a little heartbreaker when you grow up too, pet."_**(2)**

"Alfred? Are you okay?"

Alfred blinked, pulling himself out of his flashback to see Arthur's worried face inches from his own. He blushed, and both felt a mild sense of déja vu.

"Uh, yeah... Sorry 'bout that," he mumbled and grinned sheepishly. "We should get out though," he said, "The water's warm, but the weather sure aint--"

"Isn't," Arthur corrected, and Alfred once again thought of his mother.

"_Isn't_," he agreed, rolling his eyes. "And I don't want you to get sick again. That was horrible."

Arthur scowled. "Yes, I apologise for being infected by a virus and relying on you as I was incapacitated by said harmful organisms. I just can't resist running in the rain and getting myself sick," he spat sarcastically. **(3)**

"Chill," the American said, raising his brows. "I know it's no fun gettin' sick. I used to get sick a lot..." he trailed off at Arthur's curious glance and snapped his mouth shut. "So, anyways, let's get outta here. Up for another hot spring so neither of us get sick again?"

"Sure," the older man agreed airily, inwardly appeased by Alfred's sudden outburst of a past experience. He had also noticed the bigger man's eyes grow foggy. From experience, he assumed the kid had a flashback. He just wondered what it was. _I'll find out someday_, he told himself calmly as he waded his way to the bank, and grabbed Alfred's offered hand. _No need to push it. First trust must be established... _He frowned sullenly for a moment before shaking his head, brushing off whatever thought he'd had. Alfred didn't miss the overcast look, but he didn't question it. They walked together in silence to the hot springs, walking closer than necessary, shoulders brushing together but eyes trained ahead of them. Their fingers brushed a few times, but neither had the courage to take hold of the other's.

_Baka._

**O-o-O-o-O**

The glass made a loud clanking noise when it was slammed onto the bar. "Gimme another, man," Gilbert slurred, slamming more Yen onto the table.

The bartender frowned but didn't protest. He'd done so two glasses prior, but had gotten a face full of fist. He placed the German's fifth drink of the evening in front of him and went to serve his more quiet patrons.

The albino took a long swig of the drink and swiped his sleeve across his mouth, licking the bitter taste of ale off of his lips.

_Lips moulding together, biting painfully, teeth grinding and pressing down until blood dripped from tongues and lips, white teeth covered in red..._

"Bruder?"

The albino didn't need to look up to know who it was. "Hey, Ludwig," he replied huskily, voice affected by the amount of alcohol he had consumed.

There was a pause before the younger brother slid onto the stool next to Gilbert, and then another stretch of silence until, finally, "Roderich called."

Gilbert didn't respond for a moment but took a long chug of his drink. He slammed it back down on the counter top. "Oh."

"He and Elizaveta are planning to meet us on the way home in two days."

"Oh," he replied again, feigning disinterest.

Ludwig sighed. "Bruder..." he began, but the elder of the two raised a hand to silence him.

"I know, Ludwig, I know. It's not healthy to pretend I don't give a shit when clearly I do," he muttered, sighing loudly and running a hand through his snowy locks.

"Well," Ludwig muttered, "I wasn't going to phrase it quite like that, but that's the gist of it, yes." He glanced at his brother. "Gilbert... Elizaveta still feels for you... and Roderich, although he acts a bit..."

"Like a fucking dick?" Gilbert suggested, sipping the remnants of his drink.

"A bit... eccentric," Ludwig said, ignoring him, "But he does care for you... You are his bruder." He stared meaningfully at Gilbert for a moment, who remained silent. "You should try talking to them. It could get you far." He gave his brother a pat on the shoulder before walking over to a bouncing Feliciano.

"Ve! Ve! Ludwig, have you finished talking to your fratello?" he enquired brightly with a concerned smile.

The German smiled at the shorter man and reluctantly ruffled the brown hair with affection. "Ja," he replied, tone laced with as much as affection as his actions. "We can go now."

The Italian immediately latched himself to the blond man's arm and cried happily, "Ve~! We can go to the hot springs together!"

Ludwig flushed but didn't protest, and didn't push Feliciano off either. Instead, he slowly loosened Feliciano's grip on his arm and entwined their hands, surprising and pleasing the brunet, who beamed happily and dragged the man to the hot springs.

Gilbert watched the exchange with mixed feelings of pride for his younger brother, happiness that Ludwig was happily with someone (despite him being a prude/secret pervert), and jealously that he himself would never have that. Groaning, he ordered another drink.

_The bitter taste of ale on his lips, and the salty, rusty taste of blood on his own mingled together, and it stung. He opened his burning eyes to meet bright, icy cold lavender ones that manage to chill him to the bone as if he were laying in snow. "__Ya lublu tebya."_**(4)**_ He bit down on his lip to draw more blood and traced his dagger along his face until blood trickled down. He knew the pain wouldn't end until he gave in._

_"I-ich liebe dich," he slurred through the pain, and was rewarded with a seemingly innocent smile, but he could see beneath that facade; underneath that smile was a monster, and Gilbert was its prey._

_Still, the pain did not end. It never did._

**O-o-O-o-O**

_**Axis Powers Hetalia**_** belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

**(**_**1**_**) The comparison between Alfred's mum (or "mom") and Arthur is important for future events, which shall later be made clear.**

**(**_**2**_**) I felt it important to include that I designed Alfred's mum in the image of my aunt. Arthur's mother will be designed in the image of my mum.**

**(**_**3**_**) Hmm... The way Arthur said this reminds me of the film **_**28 Days Later**_**, which was made in England. I do hope you've seen it or at least heard of it. It's bloody brilliant if I do say so myself... Anyway~!  
(**_**4**_**) Russian for 'I love you'. A big, big, **_**biiig**_** thank you to **_**Natsuki Eien-sama**_** for providing the translation.**

**The next couple/few chapters will centre around Ivan's and Gilbert's past together, and soon Ivan's and Arthur's past. Please stay tuned!**

**This is like a holiday present from me since I didn't finish my long USxFem!UK/USxUK oneshot in time... I guess that'll be your New Years present. -**_**Shrugs**_**- In any case, I hope you enjoyed the latest installment.**

_**I really enjoyed writing the part where Alfred and Arthur falling and clinging to each other wet and panting and--**_

**...**

**...**

**...**

**P-please review! Happy holidays, guys!**

_xoxo __loveyou__. xoxo_

_...Oh my god... that was so gay of me._


	20. Ohayo watashi no kioku! II

_I better not pass out this time. Blimey, that was embarrassing..._ Arthur thought as he lowered himself into the hot water, not taking his towell off like most of the others did. His face bloomed scarlet when a certain American slipped into the water next to him and averted his gaze. "You alright?" Alfred enquired, leaning forward to catch a glimpse of Arthur's red face. "You're bright red." He frowned in concern and the Brit inwardly groaned. _Read the bloody atmosphere, you tosser!_ "You got a fever again?" He moved to place his hand on Arthur's forehead, but the older man leaned away from the touch. Next to Arthur, Kiku couldn't help but feel a sudden longing for his camera. He flushed lightly, but luckily no one noticed due to the heat. _Would Heracles-san find that strange?_

"I'm fine," Arthur replied quickly, swallowing and staring intently at the hot, murky water and thus dragging Kiku out of his inner torment. _I wonder how many bath salts are in here_, Arthur thought to take his mind off of Alfred, the man next to him. It wasn't working very well; his mind refused to let his him drift away from stray thoughts of the man sitting beside him, whose hot flesh was so close to his that he could almost feel their arms brushing, that he could feel the heat radiating off of him, that he could feel--

"Ve~! Ve~! Let's tell stories! Stories!" Feliciano chimed brightly, smiling a dopey grin as he flailed next to his German partner, and effectively snapping Arthur out of his trance. The man flared cerise and scooted a couple of inches away from the man next to him, who remained blissfully unaware of the inner turmoil the Englishman had just suffered. Letting out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding, Arthur inwardly thanked Feliciano for interrupting his treacherous thoughts, as did Kiku after his thoughts had drifted back to Heracles.

"Stories?" Lovino repeated with a dull tone, his usual scowl decorating his features. He'd just wanted to spend his time relaxing (or not relaxing, maybe doing something more fun... not in a perverted way!) with Antonio, but he and the Spaniard hadn't had much time alone during the holiday. Not that they had a lot of time together anyway, what with Antonio's occupation as a security guard, and Lovino himself holding up two jobs at once to earn enough money. Most days he worked as a waiter in a nameless café, and spent a couple of hours every day delivering newspapers. He was secretly ashamed of his work when Antonio had such a demanding job, and so sometimes he stayed out longer, just lingering around benches and shops, to pretend that he actually did something worthwhile.

"Sí, buena idea, Feliciano!" Antonio replied happily, and the elder Italian huffed and sunk into the water, feeling mildly disappointed that _he _hadn't come up with the idea. Then Antonio would be praising _him_ instead of his _brother_... _Don't be like that!_ He scolded himself, cheeks reddening. _You don't care!_

"I agree," Kiku put in to disentangle himself from his thoughts. "That is a good idea." He smiled politely.

"Who wants to go first?" Antonio asked and chuckled, and Lovino could feel the rumbling of the Spaniard's laughter, thus realising they were sitting _really close together_. He flushed and lowered his eyes to the water as he blew bubbles to distract himself.

"Me~! I want to go first!" the youngest Italian declared quickly, raising a hand. He would have stood up to cheer, but Ludwig grabbed his shoulder to keep him beneath water (cover). Antonio made a vague gesture for Feliciano to begin his fable, discreetly edging closer to Lovino as he did so. "Mine's about when I met Ludwig!" he began brightly, not noticing how the German's face flared bright red. "Ludwiiig? What was the weather like when we met?" Feliciano asked curiously, tilting his head.

"Why is that important?" the blond muttered with a frown.

"Because stories always describe the weather!" he whined, latching onto the man's arm, and Kiku once again cursed his lack of camera. "Oh! Oh! I remember now! It was sunny," he said, beaming proudly. The German brought his palm to his face as his companion launched into the story. "We met in Germany," he began, his dopey smile now turning slightly more serious, surprising the others. "It was sunny..."

_The sun was beating down upon the town, but Feliciano didn't really mind it all that much as he quite enjoyed the heat. He beamed brightly. Today was his first day working at the police station. Honestly, he was quite worried. He knew he messed up a lot, and he didn't want to disappoint his brother or grandfather. He shook the thoughts off. "I'm not much good at anything, but... I can't screw up paperwork, can I? I'm just going to be a secretary..." He pouted, brows drawing together. He had told his brother that he had earned the job as an actual officer. Lovino had blinked, drawn back for a moment, looking almost defeated, before begrudgingly patting Feliciano's shoulder and mutting a congratulations. Did Lovino not think Feliciano could do it? "I have to do well so I can make Lovino proud of me!" he decided dreamily, smiling brightly again. He glanced into his mirror, blinking slowly before smiling. "Ah, this uniform looks nice!" he proclaimed, adjusting his cuffs a little before glancing back in the mirror and nodding in satisfaction. He danced out of his room and into the apartment's kitchen, grabbing a slice of Lovino's pizza since he had no time to make his own meal._

_"Oi, idiot! That was mine!" his brother shouted in annoyance, although he was rather accustomed to the occurring. He didn't know why; Feliciano was just as good at cooking as he was (not that he'd ever admit it. He felt inferior enough already without admitting his goofy younger brother was good at everything). He vaguely heard Feliciano shout a hyper apology before the door slammed shut, and he groused sullenly, "Have a good day..." before calling Julius down for breakfast._

Lovino blinked as Feliciano described the details, sighing into the water as he remembered it. He was shameful; his younger brother had achieved such a sturdy job before Lovino. Every place he attempted to gain employment in rejected him, claiming he was, "a waste of space; useless with not talent." He grouched, recalling the events after his brother had left for work.

_"Mm! Lovino, you are a marvellous cook!" he proclaimed, sitting down and scoffing a good portion of Lovino's pizza._

_"Whatever, old man," the brunet boy muttered, agitated. "Grandfather..." he began nervously, wringing his hands. _I should tell him I want to go to study cooking further... _"I have to tell you something..."  
_

_"Of course, my boy!" Julius replied energetically, enthusiastic as always. He grinned at him and Lovino opened his mouth to speak when the man snapped his fingers and his smile broadened. "But first, I must tell you the good news!" Lovino's stomach plummeted and he tried his best not to look utterly defeated. "I've been accepted for the job of headmaster in a school in England!" His brown eyes sparkled in excitement and his smile was so big and proud. "Isn't it wonderful, Lovino?"_

_The boy swallowed, fists clenched tightly in his lap. He sucked in a deep breath and forced a small smile onto his face. "Yes," he agreed quietly, "It's wonderful..." He remembered to congratulate Julius, who beamed (just like Feliciano), and then jumped, grabbing another slice of pizza and saying, "I've got to prepare! See you later, Lovino!" He paused briefly to ruffle the boy's hair before departing from the kitchen._

_Lovino stared after him, feeling an odd mixture of betrayal and defeat. Sighing, he muttered, "You forgot I even had to tell you something... You never forget Feliciano..." Shaking his head and blinking away any tears, he glanced at the one remaining slice of pizza and threw it in the rubbish._

He was brought out of his reverie when something warm and soft touched his cheek. Blinking, he glanced to his side, flushing when he realised Antonio had kissed his cheek. "Are you alright, Lovino?" he whispered softly, not wanting to disrupt Feliciano's tale.

"Y-yeah," the Italian replied quietly, looking away and into the water. He didn't elaborate and, much to his disappointment, the Spaniard didn't press him for answers. _I act like he annoys me_, he thought sullenly, _But I wish he'd keep bothering me... I want his attention_. He frowned into the water and closed his eyes, feeling them burn again, and, against his better judgement (_Don't listen, you idiot! It will just make you feel _worse_. It always does, because you're a loser. Why is someone as great as Antonio even with me anyway? He deserves so much better... But I'm too selfish to let him go..._), listened to his brother's story.

_"Ah! I'm laaate!" Feliciano cried worriedly as he picked up his pace, practically sprinting to his intended destination, not paying much attention to his surroundings, calling out hasty apologies as he sped past people, narrowly avoiding collisions. He looked down to glance at his watch and whimpered nervously. _I don't want to get fired!_ He thought despairingly, picking up his pace. By the time he looked up, he was too late to skid to a halt, and accidentally went crashing into the person before him, sending them both spiralling to the floor with a painful smack. He had no time to apologise as he was quickly flipped over and shoved against the floor. He whimpered painfully. "Oww!" he whined._

_"Who are you?" a voice demanded, heavily accented. When Feliciano didn't respond straight away, the man smacked him against the ground harder. "Are you deaf? Answer me! Who are you?"_

_"I-I'm Feliciano Vargas," the Italian replied fearfully. "Please don't hurt meee!" he cried, tears springing to his eyes, astonishing the blond man above him. "I didn't mean to knock you over! I was running late! I'm sooorryyy!" he shouted, sounding absolutely terrified._

_The German above him glanced around nervously as a crowd form, muttering amongst themselves about what was going on. He cursed inwardly and patted the guy down. He blinked at the uniform. _That's..._ He frowned and searched the Italian's pockets for proof of his identity. Grabbing the beat-up wallet in the guy's pockets, he rifled through and raised a brow at the man's ID. Sighing ruefully, he stood back up to full height and offered the guy - Feliciano? - a hand. "I apologise," he muttered gruffly, "I thought you were trying to attack me." He tried not to look at the brunet's teary face, and was surprised when the boy carefully grabbed his hand. He blinked down at him and hefted him up, supporting him when he staggered. _How can he possibly be working in a police force? He's so...

_"It's okaaay!" the boy said brightly, blinking any remaining tears out of his eyes. "S-so, you aren't going to hurt me?" he enquired hopefully, shiny brown eyes staring up into the German's pleadingly, and he frowned, dismissing the odd sense of nostalgia that flooded him. _Many people have brown eyes, _he told himself, _You can't possibly recognise this boy...

_He looked away, feeling heat raise up into his face. "No, I won't hurt you," he mumbled, "But be more careful, okay?" he added imperiously to gain a stronger hold on any remaining masculine pride._

_"I will! Thank you for sparing me!" he chirped with a dopey smile. "I'm Feliciano Vargas," he said again, tilting his head. "What's your name?"_

_The blond briefly wondered how the guy could be so... childlike. The world was so full of troubles and this young man was just so... bright and happy. It was odd. He gave a long-suffering sigh and simply answered, "Ludwig," not wanting to divulge his full name to a stranger._

_"Ve~!" Feliciano said happily, "It's nice to meet you, Ludwig!" He tilted his head, still smiling that dreamy smile. "Could you take me to the station? I don't know where it is," he said sadly, grabbing Ludwig's hand, who blushed and violently shrugged him off, missing the hurt look he received in response for his actions._

_"Fine," he answered tightly, turning and walking off. "You'd better keep up, though, because I'm not stopping for you."_

_He sighed again when the Italian dashed up to his side and jogged to keep up with his pace, feeling mildly relieved that he'd be able to dump the boy off on a co-worker when they reached the station._

"Feliciano?"

"Eh?" The addressed man looked up, blinking a few times before beaming at Ludwig. "Yes?"

The German frowned worriedly. "You just trailed off," he muttered, concern lacing his gruff tone. "Are you alright?"

"Ah, of course I am, Ludwig!" the brunet replied, eyes closed as his smile remained bright and chipper.

Ludwig appeared unconvinced but didn't press the matter. Although Feliciano seemed happy enough, he'd known the Italian long enough to know that something was wrong. "Er... Antonio, why don't you go next?" he suggested, not missing how Feliciano relaxed slightly.

"Ah, of course! Sí!" the Spaniard agreed obligingly, grinning. "I suppose I shall talk of when I met Lovino!"

"Shut up, you idiot," the aforementioned man grumbled, cheeks flushing slightly, not wanting to show that he was touched by that, and he buried half of his face underwater to disguise his smile, listening intently as Antonio retold the tale of how they'd met; when Lovino had been delivering newspapers around a bad neighbourhood and Antonio had found him beat up on the ground and took him home, and had always defended the Italian afterwards, aware that, inwardly, Lovino was as soft and nearly helpless as his little brother. Of course, he hit the Spanish idiot, if only to hide his smile.

When he'd completed his (admittedly rather sugar-coated and romanticised) story, he glanced around the group and his eyes landed on the American. "Ah, Alfred, is it?" he said kindly, "Would you like a turn?"

The blond blinked in surprise and glanced around the group when everyone's (aside from Arthur, whom was pointedly looking away) eyes landed on him. He grinned sheepishly and shifted uncomfortably. "Uh, okay. Sure. Um..." He searched his mind for a suitable story, forcibly shoving away the more negative ones and trying to scour his memories for happy times, and vaguely wishing Matthew was here for it, until his wheel of flashbacks reeled to a stop and he smiled slightly. "Well, there was this one time, I got home from school, and, well, Mattie sorta got picked on," he said, leaving out the _and I did jack about that_ that tasted fowl on his tongue. _So much for being a fuckin' hero, huh?_ The Brit next to him glanced up at him through his choppy fringe, frowning at the way Alfred's eyes had darkened during his pause. What was he thinking? "But, well, I..." He seemed to struggle and forcibly pushed out his words, "I did nothin' to help him. So, he... always came home, bleeding and limping and cryin', and... dad..." He swallowed and his eyes quickly moved to Arthur and then back to the water in front of him, wondering why his cheeks had suddenly felt warmer. "Dad, he said that it was good, that Mattie would learn from it, to stand up for himself. Bullshit. Mom told him so, but dad..." _hit her_ "didn't listen. So, mom always cleaned Mattie up and he always limped to school the next day. It happened for ages, 'til suddenly... suddenly he just stopped cryin'. He came home, bloodied and beaten, but he just seemed apathetic. He wouldn't talk, 'cept to say g'night afteer mom cleaned him up. I asked mom what was up with him, and... and she said, "I think he's sick of people standing by and doing nothing," and I realised that... people who stand by and do nothin' to help others are just as bad as people who hurt others..." His frown deepened, but he remained blissfully unaware of the wide, awe-struck emerald eyes watching him intently, and he continued, "I was too much a fuckin' coward to do anythin' about it the next day, and the next, but then, after a while, seeing my little brother limping home, bleeding, with dead eyes, I suddenly snapped. One day, I went to the soccer field after school. I... just remember seein' red. Then when I... woke up, I guess... I just... I saw these guys sprawled out over the grass, bleeding and shit, and turned to see Mattie staring at me..." _in horror, disgust, concern... fear. The way we looked at dad. And I hated it. I almost hit _him_ too, just for lookin' at me that way. I wanted to scream, "Don't look at me like that! I'm not dad!"_ _but... I couldn't. I just... ran home in the rain, slipping and scraping my knees and dismissing mom and dad and running to my room, forever recalling the look on my little brother's face when I'd almost punched him..._

Arthur stared at Alfred for a long while as silence reigned over the spring, everyone astonished by the American's story, and Heracles's eyes darted between them a few times before he sighed and leaned back against the wall, Kiku's nervous shifting going amiss to him, as he removed his sight from the two blondes and closed his eyes. The silence was thankfully broken by the Spaniard, who said, "Wow," breaking everyone out of the trance, and Alfred jerked in surprise and stared at Antonio with wide azure eyes, looking almost panicked. "That is a very dramatic story. What a great show of heroism!" he praised with a friendly smile.

There was another pause, and then Alfred smiled back sardonically. "Yeah," he muttered quietly, sounding more revolted than pleased, "Heroism..." _I'm no hero... but I'm no villain neither. I'm just a solider; a robot. I do what's right 'cause it serves me in the end. I saved Mattie 'cause I felt guilty, right? That was selfish... and heroes aren't selfish. _He snorted quietly, unaware that the Greek man had began telling a story about his first pet kitten. _I'm no hero._

Arthur still hadn't taken his eyes off of him.

**O-o-O-o-O**

_**Axis Powers Hetalia**_** belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

**Shorter than usual. Sorry about that. I just thought I should include a bit of background on everyone. Next chapter centres around Greece, Japan, France, Canada and Prussia, the latter three of which weren't in the springs as Prussia was angsting and getting drunk, and the two former men were talking together. You can read their conversation in the next chapter. Oh, and China and the other Asian siblings... XD You'll see, let's just say that. Also, somewhere within the next... ten? XD Yeah, somewhere within the next ten chapters, there shall be action and therefore gore as all my action scenes seem to end in unrealistic amounts of blood and agony. Look forward to it!**

**Also, give me tea? As you may be aware, it's snowing in England, and although I know it's worse elsewhere, we aren't used to it (my school and my younger cousin's school are the only two open, which I find is a bloody fucking piss take but there you go, who cares that a teacher was in an accident due to ice on the roads? That's nothing!), and mum's been unable to go shopping due to her disability, and thus we have no tea. I have to go food shopping on my own tomorrow (schduled to snow again. What joy. Woo-bloody-fucking-hoo) so we will actually have food... in the mean time, I could really go for some tea. Wow, that was an unnecessarily long explanation for my lack of tea. Eh, it was for tea. It's warranted.**

_**Am I babbling about tea now? Fuck, getting off track...**_

**In addition, I'm still torn on the PrussiaxHungaryxAustria love triangle. Come on guys, cut me some slack. Don't suggest Austria can be with Switzerland, though. .__.; He's going to be with - yup, you guessed it! - Lichtenstein. **_**And, since Canada's with France in this story, I was thinking of having BelarusxUkraine. What do you think? I might have Canada with Ukraine at first - ooh, drama. We English are masters in drama. Have you seen the **_**Carry On **_**series? Or **_**Eastenders**_**? Oh, Eastenders. I do so love the yaoi pairing in there... Oops, rambling! - and then shit happens and Canada ends up being consoled by France (comfort sex? Hmm, we'll see. I don't want to write too much sex because there is a potential USxUK lemon at the end - if I don't go with one of my alternate endings which is highly possible, and all of which consist of no yaoi... I know, it's sad. :( Let's hope I feel chivalrous. XD) and Ukraine by a reluctant Belarus. Hmm... Just thinking about Russia's and Belarus's relationship in this... I'll brainstorm, no worries. **_**So, end of rambling! Did you actually read all that crap? I commend you, quite honestly. Have a cuppa. **_**Shit, I'm talking about tea again...**_** But actually, I can't believe I wrote that all right now either. My thumb hurts; someone accidentally hit it with a racket in PE (gym) today. It's kind of purply-red inside the nail. Eh, I've had worse. Like when my nail was ripped off and my thumb was completely swollen... XD I'm accident prone occasionally... -**_**dignified cough**_**-**

**I'm not in the best of moods right now due to contributing factors of school and personal problems, so I'll just cut this off here. Stay tuned. :) Take care and be safe. ^^ Also, I wrote this chapter last night but I was just too bloody tired/lazy to upload it and just went to bed right after I finished it. Yeah, I'm mean like that. But to sidetrack you from telling me off, it is, once again, snowing in England today! (I wrote the majority of the author's notes last night as well, so there's a small portion I am writing now, the day after I wrote the prior notes, and I am informing you that it's been snowing, thus far, for four days in a row. Shall we aim for five? Six? More? Either way, we'll probably still have to go to school. **_**-grumbles and scowls**_**- Piss take, honestly. But anyway, I'll shut up now. (Hoo-rah!)**

**Thanks for reading this far, guys! I hope you've enjoyed it so far. :) Stay tuned. -**_**Goes to hug but then retreats and instead distributes scarves**_**- But I didn't make them for you! I just happened to conveniently have a large supply of home-made scarves and... J-just take them!**


	21. Ohayo watashi no kioku! III

"What is their current financial status, Toris?" a smooth voice enquired, reverberating around the tense silence in the atmosphere. Aside from the speaker, the other people in the room were sitting upright on the edge of their chairs, eyes darting around nervously and quietly trembling. After the calm man had spoken, all eyes landed on the addressed man, who shifted uncomfortably, back still aching from what he had undergone a few days prior.

The brunet licked his lips and his green eyes flickered up fretfully, and he suppressed a shudder when he met icy violet eyes. "Th-their liquidity rate is high. Their net profit effectively had about a five percent increase since last year, now being around one hundred and fifty eight thousand pounds." He fidgited uncomfortably, wincing slightly. Raivis offered him a shakey sympathetic look, whilst a recently awoken Eduard just appeared confused and worried. "All of their ratios are listed here." The brunet gingerly reached into his manila folder and slipped the papers over to Ivan, who snatched them up immediately, making Toris flinch. "I-I spent all of last night calculating them," he piped up, and then inwardly hit himself. _Great. Now it sounds like I'm fishing for compliments._ He sighed ruefully. _As if that would ever happen..._

Ivan appraised the figures with a serene smile on his intimidating face. The three other occupants watched intently, analysing his face for any sign of displeasure. They practically slumped in relief when he eventually lowered the paper, smile still intact, and then they all jumped violently when he slammed his fists down on the table, making it shake from the force. Raivis's previous trembling transformed into full-on turbulant shakes, lavender eyes wide and fretful. Eduard swallowed loudly, evidently nervous but trying his hardest not to show it. Toris tried to remain as professional as possible and not to dwell on what could happen if any of them made the wrong move in this circumstance.

"They are very successful," the Russian drawled, voice at an even level and sounding normal, but the three men who had spent most of their lives around this psychotic maniac knew how to read between the lines in regards to his words... and his voice. "Tell me, Toris," he began, glinting violet eyes piercing Toris's jade ones. "Do they have any shareholders? Partnerships?"

The brunet shook his head quickly. "No," he replied quietly, swallowing. "They're a family-based company. The creator of the business, Yao Wang, runs it solely on his own, although his siblings, Kiku Honda, Im Young Soo, Michael Tse, and Meimei Wang act as specialist managers of the business. Mr. Honda is the finance manager," he supplied sullenly, guilt overwhelming him. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to put up the barracades in his mind to keep out all of the hurtful and pessimistic thoughts.

"Kiku Honda, hmm?" the blond man hummed thoughfully, his smile briefly turning into a frown as his eyes flashed dangerously, and then he was suddenly smiling again. "What does Kirkland do in this organisation then?"

"He's a psychiatrist," Toris supplied reluctantly, unease growing due to the unusual display of open displeasure on Ivan's face.

"A psychiatrist?" the blond repeated, dissolving into a miniature fit of drunken-sounding giggles, making shivers run up the other men's spines. "How hypocritical." He smirked and stood up, looming ominously above the others. They all stared up at him fearfully. "I do believe," he drawled happily, "That I can kill two birds with one stone." He swerved around and briskly walked to the door, and paused before departing. "Oh, and could one of you contact my sisters? I require their assistance for this job." Smiling brightly, he waved, and the door slammed shut behind him, leaving his subordinates in the dark room, letting his words sink in.

**O-o-O-o-O**

"We should get out soon," Kiku started softly, his heat-induced flush growing deeper at his random outburst. He inwardly belated himself for being so forward, and he tried not to tumble over his words when the Greek glanced at him lazily. "Everyone got out a while ago," he explained nervously, shifting away as if only just realising how close they were. "We could faint..."

"Both of us are pretty accustomed to heat," Heracles replied languidly, his blasé gaze shifting up to the sky. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" he murmured, changing the subject.

The Japanese man looked up as well, a small smile coming onto his features. "Yes," he agreed. "I remember," he began, and Heracles glanced at him again, "When I was young, Yao would take my siblings and I outside and we'd just look at the stars. Sometimes, we searched for bugs." He chuckled softly, features softening. "It didn't go very well. In fact, it was catastrophic. Meimei always screamed at the sight of them, and threatened Yao into killing any that came near her." He smiled uneasily. "My sister can be quite unsettling," he said, but he mean it in a fond sense. "Yong Soo always claimed to invent the constellations," he said, smile twitching, "And Michael always set fire crackers off to disturb us." He sighed.

Heracles's lips twitched. "Didn't you ever act out?"

Kiku glanced sharply at him. "Not at all!" he sputtered defensively, frowning in offense.

The brunet turned to him, an interested smirk on his face. "Didn't you want to?" he asked, and Kiku blinked in confusion. "Being the well-behaved child always means having less attention," he explained quietly, face more sombre now as he inched towards the shorter man, whose eyes were growing wide. "Meaning you don't feel wanted... or loved."

The Japanese man tensed up and he scowled slightly. "Please get out of my way," he said softly, voice taking on a poisonous undertone.

"When I was young," Heracles continued, disregarding Kiku's plea, "My parents were always too busy, being involved in government and all." He placed his hands beside Kiku's head, leaning down slightly, his hot breath ghosting over the other man's lips. Kiku shuddered and closed his eyes tightly, cheeks darkening. "So, I always acted out for attention... but it never worked. At least, not for whom I intended. That stupid Sadiq always found be doing chaotic and stupid things, and he always had to help me out of them or patch me up." His lips were just brushing over Kiku's now. "It happened again in high school and university. I fell asleep in class or purposely wrote smart-alek remarks on my homework, but only in the classes you were in." Kiku's eyes fluttered open, staring up in shock into Heracles's sullen turquoise ones. "I wanted your attention, Kiku, but you were always preoccupied. You were always trying so hard to live up to expectations or pass your brother's standards... that you forgot about me." A small sigh escaped his slightly parted lips, and before he closed the gap between them, he whispered, "I've always been so jealous."

**O-o-O-o-O**

"Can we stop for a moment please?" Matthew pleaded wearily, giving Francis a kicked puppy look. When he received a chuckle and confirmation, he gratefully slumped down and fell in a flowerbed, soon followed by Francis.

"Thuy may punish us for destroying her flowers," the French man warned, staring up at the dark sky.

"I'm too tired to care right now," the Canadian replied tiredly, and peaked open one eyes to look at Francis, appraising the man. Against his initial thoughts, Francis actually seemed like a half decent bloke, give or take. Sure, he was flirtatious and nosey and a bit of a pervert, but he'd been nothing but civil towards Matthew, and he'd even offered his brother some advice by the looks of it. _Speaking of which, I hope Arthur can help Alfred with his homophobia so they can get past their glaringly obvious sexual tension..._

"Take a picture, it lasts longer," Francis advised with a wink.

Matthew blushed at being caught staring and turned away to stare intently at the stars. "I-I was just thinking about my brother and Arthur."

"Oh?" his fellow blond drawled, gaze flickering back over to Matthew again. "Normally, when staring at someone, you think of that person."

Matthew ignored him. "I'm just hoping Arthur can help Alfred and that they get over themselves because the sexual tensions that builds up when those two are together drives me nuts." He huffed and pouted slightly.

The French man blinked before chuckling. "Oh, Matthieu," he said, voice lighter than it had been for a while. "You surprise me." He smiled. "You seem like the shy, quiet and unassuming type..."

"You shouldn't judge people before you get to know them," he reminded the other man, also turning to glance at him. "Before... I was also thinking something about you."

Francis raised a brow.

"N-not in a bad way! I mean, I-I..." He swallowed and sighed, closing his eyes as he hastily blurted, "When I first met you, I thought you were the one night stand type who just gets to know people to get into their pants, but..." He opened his eyes again and stared into the other man's breathtaking blue eyes. "But... well, now... I think you're actually a very selfless, giving person, and I..." Why were they suddenly so close? "You... er... well..." _Oh, fucking hell. I can't do this. Not when Alfred's still... like that. He'll hate me._ He sat up quickly, surprising Francis, and not missing the hurt look in his blue eyes, but pretending not to notice. "We should go inside now," he said. "Thuy might see us crushing her flowers, eh?" He avoided Francis's gaze, and continued to stare at his shoes even as he heard rustling beside him. He blinked in shock when he saw a hand in front of his vision. He blinked up at the hand, and then the person who offered it. Swallowing, he nervously placed his hand in Francis's, and let the man help him up. They held hands on the way back, but Matthew whipped his hand back and increased his pace when they entered the building.

Francis smiled sardonically and stared at Matthew's back sadly. _You may not hate homosexuals like Alfred does, Matthieu... but that doesn't mean you aren't scared of them. That's just as bad._

**O-o-O-o-O**

"You get overheated so easily," Alfred commented when Arthur rushed out onto the balcony upon reaching their room.

"I can't help it," Arthur replied tiredly, closing his eyes as he sat down and leant against a pillar. "I'm used to cold weather and rain."

"Well, you'll have to get used to it when I take you to America," Alfred said as he threw down his towell and joined Arthur on the veranda, taking a seat next to him.

The Brit opened one bright emerald eye to look at Alfred. "You actually meant that? I thought you were joking," he muttered.

"A hero stays true to his word," the American said wistfully, as if repeating words he had heard before. When he caught Arthur looking at him, he blushed and mumbled, "M-my mom said that. She used to read to me and stuff..." He was mildly surprised when the other man smiled at him.

"She was right," he replied gently, and Alfred smiled back, relaxing a bit. They sat in a comfortable silence for a long while, listening to the gentle breeze rustle the leaves, smelling the scent of the flowers, and watching the stars twinkling above them. It was so peaceful that Arthur almost dozed off, but was returned to reality when Alfred's voice pierced his foggy mind.

"So, do _you_ have a story?"

Arthur blinked a few times. "What?"

The younger man glanced at Arthur and then turned away again. "I asked if you have a story. Like, in the onsen, everyone was telling a story... and I told one of mine..." He looked embarrassed.

Arthur appraised him for a moment before sighing. "Don't you know enough things about my to realise I'm obviously a hypocritical prat?" he asked huffily, but he was smiling sadly. "What kind of story would you like to hear?"

"I dunno," the American replied nervously, twiddling his thumbs. "Something to do with your family?"

Silence ensued for a moment before the shorter man sighed again, leaning heavily against the pillar. "Well," he began, closing his eyes. "I have two older gits for brothers brothers and a non-identical twin--"

"You what? You never told me that!" Alfred said, shocked.

Arthur smirked wearily back. "You never asked," he merely replied. "Now, do you want to listen, or do you want to talk?"

"I'll listen," replied the American with a pout.

Arthur nodded. "Thought so," he said. "Well, as I was saying... I have three brothers. My father was a bit of a wanker and left mum. The only thing I wonder is why he stuck around long enough to impregnate her with me." He shook his head of these thoughts, and continued, "Mum fell into depression so we had to go to a children's home. No one wanted to adopt us, we were a bunch of misfits. As well as that, we often got into little 'wrestling matches' with each other. Cailean, my eldest brother, probably broke my arm about twice, and Ádhamh dislocated my right shoulder. Aeddan, my twin, and I always got into little tiffs but never dealt a lot of damage." He chuckled dryly, eyes foggy and faraway. "But when Cai turned eighteen, he got a job and a flat, and got us all out of there. Soon after, Ádhamh also turned eighteen. Aeddan and I were usually left alone in the apartment. He was always drawing or playing with plastic animals, whereas I..." He trailed off and shook his head, opening his mouth to continue, but Alfred wanted to know.

"Whereas you did what?" he asked pointedly, staring into Arthur's traffic light-green eyes.

The Briton moaned tiredly. "Whereas I acted in extreme emo fashion and wrote depressing poetry, forced myself into skinny jeans, styled my hair, and... well, did over things emos usually do."

"Labels are for soup cans," Alfred recited, but he had an uneasy feeling in his gut. "What were the other things?" he asked weakly, feeling slightly sick.

"I'm sure you can guess." Arthur turned to him lazily, eyes half-lidded as he was trying hard to stay awake.

"Do you... do you still...?"

"I haven't for a long time. Not since..." He trailed off again and shook his head. "We should go to bed."

"I wanna hear what happened," Alfred insisted, if only to ease the sickness in his stomach.

Arthur gave another long-suffering sigh. "Long story short, I did lots of things I'm not proud of and yet somehow still got into a fairly good university with Kiku, Francis and that lot, whilst Aeddan... Aeddan's... well, he was sent to a... er..." Arthur looked down at his hands anxiously. "He was sent to a psychiatric facility, and, erm, well... he... he's still there." He swallowed, now twisting his hands. "I-I'm still in contact with Cai, although we don't get along."

Alfred felt guilty. "And Ádhamh?" he whispered softly, trying to pretend Arthur wasn't shaking even though he could feel it.

"He's also in a psychiatric place. The schizophrenia ward."

_"I hate you, Arthur! I hate you! You know why daddy dearest left us? Because _you_ were born! You're a disgrace! He hated _you_! _You_ drove him away! Why couldn't _you _have left? Then we'd still have a dad and mum wouldn't be in-fucking-sane!" Ádhamh screamed, green eyes flashing furiously as he charged towards Arthur and delivering a sharp punch to the shorter boy's jaw, making him stumble backwards into the wall, blood dripping to the carpet. Eyes wide, he was too shocked to move. He didn't even resist when Ádhamh approached again and pulled him forward by his collar only to twist him, grab his arm and slam him into the wall, twisting his arm behind him. Arthur's mouth opened and he let out a sharp scream._

_"Ádhamh!" Cailean shouted furiously, grabbing Ádhamh's arms and pulling him back to restrain him from inflicting more damage. "Ádhamh, calm down! Aeddan, take Arthur out of here and see if he's okay. I'll take care of Ádhamh."_

_Aeddan, also wide-eyed, stared in shock at Cailean for a moment before glancing between his two other brothers, his eyes full of accusation when they landed on Arthur. "But..." he began, but was interrupted._

_"_Now_, Aedan!" Cailean shouted authorititively. Hesitating for only a moment, Aeddan uncaringly grabbed Arthur's uninjured arm and dragged him out of the room, unable to prevent Ádhamh's words from echoing in his mind._

_"All your fault," he mumbled quietly, not even looking at his twin to see the tears streaming down his pale, horrified face._

"Arthur!"

"What?" His eyes flew open and he blinked in dismay and confusion when he saw frantic azure ones staring right back. The man above him let out a sigh of relief upon finally receiving a reaction from Arthur. "Are you okay?"

Alfred stared at Arthur, frowning. "Am _I _okay? You're asking if _I'm_ okay after _you_ just blacked out?" He shook his head. "D'you, like, have _no_ sense of self-preservation?"

"Do you?" Arthur retorted, still staring up into Alfred's eyes, who was also looking right back.

"We're a right pair, huh?" he joked hoarsely, lips twitching although his smile was anything but joyful.

Arthur mirrored his poignant smile. "Yeah," he agreed. "A right pair."

**O-o-O-o-O**

_**Axis Powers Hetalia**_** belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

**Well, Arthur has such a lovely family, doesn't he? I was being sarcastic, by the way.**

**Can't be bothered to write much of a comment, I'm tired and still getting over being ill, and I have school tomorrow... ugh, GCSEs in May... Fuuuuuuuck. -**_**holds pistol to head**_**-**

**Aside from that, I'm just glad 's letting me upload documents again. Frickin' bug/glitch. Bah, whatever. I also have other potential stories but probably won't write them up until this is finished, along with **_**Paper Clips and Sticky Tape (Cannot Mend Broken Hearts)**_** and **_**To The Stars**_** which I absolutely should update soon... -**_**shot repeatedly**_**-**

**Hope you enjoyed the GiriPan scene, and the Franada scene in which Canada's being a total prat and needs to get over it and shout, "I'M GAY, AND THAT'S OKAY. :D" But nooo. =3= Everyone's a hypocrite in this story. XD**

**G'bye, watching Superman III... (Just finished watching all the Batman's, old and new... RIP Heath. :( You were fucking amazing as the Joker.)**


	22. Yamete kudasai!

"Muuum!"

Tino sighed in exasperation and ran a hand through his hair. "Peter, I'm not your mother," he replied for what seemed like the hundredth time. "I'm a man."

"But you're like a mum," the boy returned, seemingly uncaring that his 'mother' was of the male persuasion.

"What do you want, Peter?" Tino asked tiredly, putting his forehead in his hands and finally abandoning his pathetic attempt at finishing his paperwork. _Why did I have to be a doctor? Why couldn't I be a waiter? Then I wouldn't have so much paperwork, but nooo..._

"I wanna call Eyebrows," Peter replied quietly, and the Finnish man glanced up quickly. Peter didn't usually volunteer to call his dad, and on the very, very rare occasions he did, it was because he wanted something or just felt the urge to shout insults at the man. However, today, Peter seemed to look a bit more sombre than usual and Tino felt worry creep up on him. Call it maternal instinct, but...

"Peter, is something wrong?" he asked gently, offering his foster son a soft but prompting smile. The young boy licked his lips nervously and swung his legs, glancing down as he began fidgeting with his hands. He opened his mouth to reply, and then shut it again for a minute, brows reminiscent of his fathers drawing together before he shook his head and looked up at Tino pleadingly.

"I just wanna call him," he said almost inaudibly. Tino's concern just increased - Peter never seemed this dejected or quiet. Not wanting to make the boy feel pressured, the Finnish man nodded and slid his mobile across the table. Peter reached for it and flipped it up, dialling the memorised number with careful precision. He licked his lips and held up the phone, eyes betraying his nervousness. He may have acted like a complete brat to his dead-beat dad, but he did have a begrudging sort of respect for him. The phone rang for a long while, and then the robotic voice of the woman informed him that Arthur Kirkland was currently unavailable. Instead of leaving a message, Peter just silently flipped the phone closed, shoved it across the table to Tino, and left the kitchen to head back upstairs to his room.

Tino watched him go ruefully, knowing it was always best to leave Peter alone during these times. He sighed sadly and scowled at the phone as if blaming the seemingly innocent piece of technology for all of their problems. He shook his head in dismissal and grabbed his pen, beginning to scribble on his paperwork again, and cursed softly under his breath when the phone rang. _Whoever that is had better have a good excuse for making me just drive a thick black line through what I just spent twenty minutes writing..._

"Hello?" he greeted politely, all traces of annoyance gone from his voice and expression. _Being a doctor, I have to manipulate my voice often..._

"T'no?"

The Finnish man jumped in surprise and stood quickly, his chair screeching back and falling over. He coughed in embarrassment and then steeled himself. "Mr. Oxtenstierna," he replied with a false calm tone. "How can I help you?"

There was a long pause, and Tino began to feel that strange feeling of intimidation somehow overpowering him even though the Swedish man was only on the phone. _He isn't here. He's just on the phone. Calm down, Tino._

"H've you f'n'shed th' p'p'rw'rk?" the man finally grumbled across the line, sounding reluctant.

Tino frowned. "No, I haven't," he replied honestly. _You didn't give the paperwork to me yourself and had an intern do it and they gave it to me late. Are you really so childish to avoid me even if it means delaying important patient information?_

"T'no..."

The Finnish man blinked, confused about Berwald's sudden serious tone. "Sir... the intern only gave the paperwork to me yesterday. I've been working on them all night. I still have lots to do, so--"

"T'no."

The stopped in his rant and sighed softly, picking up his discarded chair and flopping down into it, rubbing his forehead as he prepared himself for the outcome. He wouldn't be fired, would he? He had to take care of Peter... "Yes, Mr. Oxtenstierna?" he asked quietly.

He heard a grunt that sounded vaguely like, "I..." but then the Swedish man became silent again. Tino waited for a total of two minutes, but the ticking of the clock reminding him of time moving on, and Berwald's somehow imposing presence even over the phone began to make him panicked.

"I have a lot of paperwork to do," he suddenly blurted, swallowing. "If you want me to finish it by tomorrow, I should get on with it. Sir," he added, almost forgetting to address his ex-boyfriend in a formal manner.

Another pause.

"Yes," the man said, and the Finnish man blinked at how strained he sounded, and how his word was more actually spoken than grunted. "G'bye... Tino."

The line went dead, and when the beeping became too aggravating, Tino slipped the phone closed and buried his head in his hands, then suddenly realising, _He still calls me Tino._

**O-o-O-o-O**

_Okay, now I _know_ there is something wrong with me_, he thought, biting his lip before pursing his lips as he stared at the slumbering man only a few feet away from him. _I'm staring at another _guy_ as he _sleeps_ and... Fuck, I'm like a stalker or somethin'._ Groaning, he forced himself to roll onto his back and tried not to look at the other man. _This is messed up. Jesus... _He sighed, closing his eyes and feeling suddenly very nervous and alone. _Mom... Is this wrong?_ he questioned in his mind. He knew he wouldn't get a response, but... _Mom... I think I really like this guy... Is that bad? I don't... I dunno what to do, mom... _He swallowed, feeling vulnerable. _Would you still love me if I told you I liked another guy, mom...?_ He clenched his fists in the sheets, licking his lips nervously, and then glanced nervously back at the sleeping man beside him. His messy blond hair sticking up in lots of random angles; his lips parted as small breaths emitted from his mouth; his beautiful eyes closed, unaware of the two blue ones watching him intently. _Fucking hell, I can't handle this. I can't be with another guy. It just ain't right, is it? It's..._

_"Sweetie, I'll love you no matter what. Always remember that. Always be yourself and be who _you_ want to be. Ignore anyone who doesn't like that, because they're either jealous or just don't understand." An angelic smile. "I'll always love you, honey. No matter what happens."_

Azure eyes shot open and he sucked in a sharp breath. He stared at the ceiling for a long while before groaning quietly. _Why do I keep having these flashbacks?_ he wondered wearily. He breathed out a tired sigh, and then jumped in panic when he heard a strange ring tone emitting from the other side of the room. He glanced briefly at Arthur, and then heaved himself up and crawled over the man to reach his phone. He blinked at the caller ID, and glanced back at the older man, who was still sleeping heavily. Frowning, he inspected the name. _Tino __Väinämöine_**n... He glowered at the phone darkly. **_**Why don't I know anything about you, Arthur...?**_****

O-o-O-o-O

He couldn't sleep. He tried, but he always ended up staring at Arthur and finding himself getting hot and bothered. When he finally had managed to drag his eyes off of the man and close them, he always pictured the man's sleeping face, which soon turned into more... of said man moaning and writhing and whispering his name...

Eventually, he'd had enough and dragged himself out of bed, reluctantly having a torturous cold shower, and then pulled on a shirt that felt a bit too small and his jeans, and headed out the room, closing the door with a soft click so as not to disturb the sleeping angel. Or, what's what he looked like anyway. _He should glare less... He looks... nice..._ He immediately felt his face heat up and tried to shake off his treacherous thoughts. He didn't want _another_ cold shower.

He reached the main room in which the bar was located. He definitely didn't want to get drunk, but he wanted to take his mind off of Arthur. He was surprised to find another man sitting at the bar. Always one for socialising, Alfred took a seat next to the brunet man and grabbed a bottle of coke over the bar. "Hey," he greeted wearily, and received a jubilant smile in response.

"Hola, mi amigo," the Spaniard returned gleefully, and Alfred wondered how the man was so happy all the time.

"So..." he began awkwardly, wanting to break the silence.

"You know," Antonio said, and Alfred glanced at him in surprise. "Love is a rare and valuable thing." When the American stared at him as if he were some kind of weird new species. Antonio chuckled softly and swirled his beverage, whatever it was. "It makes you insecure. Vulnerable." He stared deeply into his drink, and Alfred stared at him in shock. "You doubt yourself. Your fears are brought out into the open. The worst thing is... you have to face them. Even if you avoid it, try to dismiss it... you cannot." He wore a sardonic smile as he took a small sip of his beverage. "Eventually, there's nowhere else to run and you just have to 'take the bull by the horns,' as they say." His dry smile became more dreamy now, and his brown eyes sparkled as if he were happy. Alfred decided it was just the light reflecting off the bar. "And it's terrifying, of course... but then... then, it's all better."

Alfred remained silent for a moment. _How do you know it'll be all better though? What if it's not the same? _"Why're you tellin' me this?" he muttered, averting his eyes to stare at his hands. Antonio's lips quirked into a small smile.

"I am close friends with Francis, for one thing. For another... well, you and Arthur just cannot stop staring at one another." He laughed softly.

Alfred's eyes widened and he looked like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. "W-what?" he squeaked in a very manly voice.

Antonio's laugh grew stronger. "Come now, it is obvious, Alfred!" he exclaimed, eyes glinting in mirth. "Both of you keep exchanging glances when the other is not looking, and when you think we do not notice. But we do." He smiled. "You like him, sí?"

The American stared at him in a mixture of mortification, shame and... relief. The Spaniard just looked so welcoming and nonchalant about it, as if he really didn't care that Alfred had such foreign feelings, and... "But isn't it unnatural?" he blurted out before he could stop himself.

He received a poignant smile in return. "Alfred," he said softly. "Someone has told you that homosexuality is wrong... but it is not." He closed his eyes. "The world is full of ignorance, intolerance and discrimination, and it always will be. If we try to meet everyone's standards, we will fail. We can try, but no one can be liked by everyone. If you try to please the world, you are succeeding only in making yourself unhappy." He opened his eyes again and patted the blond on the shoulder. "At first, Lovino was scared to face it because he thought his grandfather and brother would resent him." He laughed heartily, grinning now. _His smile is so much brighter when he talks about that Lovino guy..._ "How wrong he was!" His smile became more gentle now. "His brother was starting a relationship with his coworker - You know, Ludwig and Feliciano? Odd pair, but so are Lovino and I. Also... his grandfather was once in love with another man..." He trailed off with a melancholy sigh. "He went missing though... It is such a sad tale." He shook his head. "Pero, I digress! Lo siento, mi amigo," he said sheepishly, downing the rest of his drink. "What I am saying is... do not waste your life trying to please other people. You will only hurt others and yourself." He gave the younger man one more pat on the shoulder before dismissing himself with a, "I must now speak with my angst-filled German friend before going to see my Lovino~!"

Alfred sighed loudly and put his head in his hands. "This is all gettin' way too complicated for me," he mumbled softly, and jumped almost sky-high when he heard another voice respond.

"What is?"

He glanced up in horror, seeing the tired face of the man who plagued his mind, but his features softened when the man rubbed his eyes with his fists, looking more like a child than the adult he was. "Nothin'," he replied. "Jus' got a headache." He felt somehow happy when he received a concerned look from the man, and immediately felt guilty. _His expressions make me feel strange..._ he thought, swallowing when the man approached and placed his forehead against his own. "A-Arthur...?"

"You don't have a temperature," he said softly, pulling back and tilting his head, thick brows furrowing worriedly. _I want your expressions... your face... all for myself... Why? Why do I feel this way? I'm so confused..._ "Have you slept...?"

"Nah, not really..." he found himself whispering in response, unconsciously leaning towards the older man. "Couldn't sleep..." He licked his lips, and Arthur's eyes darted down to them for a second, then he blushed and raised his gaze once more.

"Why couldn't you sleep... Alfred?" the shorter man asked softly, eyes staring imploringly into Alfred's.

"I couldn't... I couldn't stop thinking... about..." His eyes lowered to half-mast, and he was so close to the other man now that he could feel Arthur's breath ghosting across his lips.

"About...?" the Brit whispered in a questioning prompt, eyes also fluttering closed.

"About..." He licked his lips, and suddenly Arthur bit his own and pulled back, sitting awkwardly and flushing deeply. Alfred felt disheartened, somehow severely disappointed that nothing happened. "Arthur..." he said huskily, and then blushed and cleared his throat. "Can I ask you something?"

"May I," Arthur corrected, but waved his hand in acquiescence as he grabbed Alfred's coke bottle and took a swig. The American watched some of the drops of the sugary liquid escape and dribble down his lips and chin, and how his adam's apple bobbed slightly as he drank...

He swallowed. "Um... Well... er... Are you gay?" he blurted, for lack of tact. _I blurt stuff out too often... Subtlety is not one of my qualities_, he thought ruefully as he coughed in embarrassment.

The Englishman slid the half-empty bottle of coke towards Alfred again and licked his lips, mesmerising Alfred as his tongue darted out to lick the coke in cat-like fashion... _Oh, God._ "No," Arthur finally replied.

Alfred felt his heart drop, and then he became confused and more than a little annoyed. "No?" he repeated, clenching his fist around the class coke bottle.

"No," Arthur said again. "I'm pansexual." He glanced at Alfred to determine his reaction.

"...What the hell is that?" the American asked, his face scrunching up in confusion.

The Brit smirked lightly at his lack of knowledge. "It means," he explained, "That I don't care what gender someone is, nor their gender expression or identity. In other words," he said, putting it in simple terms for the younger bloke, "I don't care if the one I like is male, female, transgender, or androgynous. I like people just for who they are, and I don't care how they appear." He sent Alfred a guarded, almost shy smile.

Alfred stared at the Brit in wonderment. "How...?" he whispered, and upon receiving a confused look elaborated with, "How can you just, like... not care what others think? Like, if you were going out with a guy? Or somethin'?"

Arthur shrugged, not getting angry because Alfred simply seemed curious and not judgemental. "I used to get defensive about it, and sometimes I do get nervous... but I've learned that it's just a waste of time worrying about what others think." He smiled slightly. "If I did, I'd never be happy. Right?"

_"If you try to please the world, you are succeeding only in making yourself unhappy."_

The American's eyes widened slightly at that, before he calmed himself and tried to regain his composure. "Yeah..." he agreed quietly. "I guess so..."

Arthur smiled and began humming a nameless tune as he glanced around the room.

"Oh, that reminds me," Alfred said, and the Brit glanced at him again. "What's with your ring tone?"

"My ring tone?" the smaller man looked confused before becoming suspicious.

"Yeah. It was like... Was it you singing?"

"Yes," Arthur agreed shortly. "When did you hear it?"

"It went off when you were asleep," Alfred replied, blinking, obviously befuddled. "What's up with you?"

"Did you answer it?" the older man asked snappishly.

"No!" he replied angrily, feeling slightly hurt. "It just went off and I heard it - Why're you gettin' so uptight about it?" He bristled, irate.

Arthur caught himself and forced himself to relax. "I'm sorry," he apologised softly, and Alfred found himself calming down as well. "I shouldn't have reacted that way."

"Why did you?" Alfred asked, scowling.

"There's just..." He sighed, running a hand through his already messy (_and oh-so-soft_, Alfred's mind supplied) hair. "People I'm in contact with that... I..." He pursed his lips and sucked in a breath.

"...Some guy called Tino called. I didn't answer, I just saw the caller ID." He frowned, biting his lip, and wondered why he felt jealous. "Who is he?"

"My son's foster father," Arthur answered after almost a full minute of silence.

Alfred's eyes widened and he immediately felt like an idiot. "Oh... Shit, Arthur, I'm sorry - I didn't..."

"It's fine," the Englishman replied tightly, sighing again, and then smiled weakly. "Maybe we should try to get a little more sleep. Today's our last day left - we're going home tomorrow - and Kiku told me we're going for a walk." He stood up, covering his mouth as he yawned, and rubbed his eyes again. Alfred tried to tear is eyes off of him again.

"Yeah," he agreed in an unusually quiet tone. Arthur glanced at him but said nothing. The walk to their room was silent and more than a little awkward. When they'd finally reached it, Alfred sat on his bed and watched Arthur as the man bent down to retrieve his phone. Just a little lower, and...

He glanced up quickly when Arthur stood up. "I'm just calling back," he explained, looking more nervous than he should. Alfred resisted the urge to stand and wrap his arms around the man protectively. _He shouldn't look so damn vulnerable--_

"Love is a rare and valuable thing... It makes you insecure. Vulnerable."

"Hello?" Arthur's strangely fearful tone broke Alfred out of his thoughts, and he watched as the man began pacing the room worriedly. "Yes, Tino, it's Arthur... Yes, I know... Sorry I didn't answer, I was asleep... What? Oh, damn it... I'm sorry, T-- Yes, I know... Okay... So, could you put him on? Please? ...Thanks." There was silence for a moment and Arthur licked his lips and ran a hand through his hair, and he jumped when he must have heard a voice on the other side. His voice trembled as he said, "Hey, brat."

"Eyebrows."

"Don't you have any respect for your elders whatsoever? I thought Tino taught you better," he admonished, smiling weakly.

"You aren't that much older than me, jerk!" the boy returned, voice ferocious.

Arthur smiled softly, eyes pained. "Mm... How are you, Peter?"

There was a pause. "I'm okay, I guess... What's up, jerk? You sound funny. Usually you argue with me."

"I..." He glanced at Alfred and away again. "I suppose I'm just tired."

"Uh huh... Is it that Michelle girl?"

"No, actually." He frowned. "And no," he said quickly when he heard Peter begin another question on the other end. "It's not Aanchal either. You know we're just close friends."

"Yeah, true. She acts like your mum or something. It's kinda funny. When she's around, you act even younger than me!"

Arthur couldn't stop himself from smiling at Peter's laughter. Biting his lip, he swallowed, and tried to say, _"I miss you, Peter,"_ but found he couldn't. Instead, he asked, "How're you doing, brat?"

Peter seemed to get the message. "Okay," he replied. "School sucks. My grades are fine, before you ask! I'm getting Bs mostly..."

"I'm proud of you, Peter," Arthur said softly, flushing after he did.

"So, you acknowledge how great I am?"

"No way, brat. You've been spending far too long with Gilbert." He smiled despite himself, and it grew when he heard the boy groan.

"I'm way cooler than him! Although his eyes are pretty cool... Can I get red contacts? Please?"

"No, Peter," he said firmly, but he was trying not to laugh at this point. He felt strange. He felt so happy that Peter didn't resent him, but also that he didn't deserve it. His hand was shaking.

"Aww, man. You suck!"

_I know._ "Get used to it," he retorted. "Sorry I didn't answer earlier, Peter. I--"

"I know, it's fine. Mum told me."

Arthur felt a pang and closed his eyes. He sucked in a deep breath and said, "Oh, I'm glad," hoping that his voice didn't sound as upset as he felt.

"Y'know, jerk... Arthur..." Arthur blinked in surprise. "I don't see you as my mum or dad." He bit his lip, wishing he could stop trembling. Alfred could have been watching, for goodness sake... "You're more like a big brother."

_Oh, God._ Arthur sniffed and sucked in a sharp breath, rubbing his eyes quickly.

"Y-you aren't crying, are you, jerk? Don't cry! Stop it! Gaaah! You'd better buy me something cool from Japan, you know. 'Cause it's real embarrassing to have you crying on me."

The Brit smiled through his shameful tears. "No way am I buying such a brat _anything_," he replied strongly, although he'd already saved enough yen to purchase a few nice trinkets for the boy.

"You jeeerk! You're so mean!" He huffed. There was a pause, and then, "I kinda miss you, jerk."

He tried not to sob again. "I... miss you too, Peter." His lips twitched. "Kind of."

"Jerk."

"Brat."

**O-o-O-o-O**

Alfred glanced up from his hands when he felt his bed dip beside him. He noticed Arthur's bloodshot eyes, his flushed cheeks and the sad smile, and couldn't help but want to hug the man. And he was going to. For once abandoning all of his worrisome thoughts and memories of his father, he wrapped an arm around Arthur's shoulders and dragged him closer. Arthur's breath hitched slightly before he leant into the embrace and buried his face in the American's shoulder, whispering a soft, "Thank you."

**O-o-O-o-O**

"What do you suppose brother wants?"

Yekaterina glanced up from the ground at blinked at her sister before offering a nervous smile. "I'm not sure," she replied softly, although she was pretty certain she knew. _He only calls us here when he wants us to do dirty work for him... Natalia is so young, she does not deserve it..._ "Why don't you sit down, Natalia? It was a long trip, and..."

"No. It will seem rude if I am not standing to welcome brother when he arrives," her sister replied impassively, eyes trained intently on the door as if believing her brother would enter at any given moment.

Yekaterina sighed quietly, averting her gaze. _Ivan... What happened to you? You used to be such a sweet child, and now... now..._ She looked quickly at her apathetic sister before staring at the ground once more. _Now, you manipulate your little sister into feeling things she shouldn't so that you can tarnish her record, destroy her life and her dreams... You'll break her heart, little brother... Why did you turn out this way?_ She closed her eyes and folded her arms under her chest. _I tried so hard to care for you when they passed away... It seems I did not do so well..._

There was a loud sound from the other side of the door, and Natalia's eyes sparkled in excitement, only for her shoulders to slump in severe disappointment when a brunet man limped through the door, offering a tired smile. "Good afternoon, ladies," he greeted politely. "Mr. Braginski is currently busy, but he will return shortly. Would you follow me? I'll get you some tea." He stood to the side, offering for them to go through first.

Natalia glared icily at him, then her eyes darted down to his leg. She turned away quickly and walked through briskly, ignoring his gentle smile. Yekaterina beamed weakly at him, and he returned it. Both of their gazes read the same thing.

_I'm sorry._

**O-o-O-o-O**

_**Axis Powers Hetalia **_**belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

Next time will feature Prussia being comforted by Spain, with France entering. Bad Friend Trio unite! You've just got to love them. :)

Along with that, we'll be finding out about Greece's and Japan's mysterious past! :o Furthermore, you'll get some more USxUK, a little more Sealand, Finland and Sweden, and soon Arthur's big brothers will be coming into it. More drama - Hell yes! Oh, and of course, Russia & Co. will be included. I feel so bad for Liet and Ukraine. :( But I also resent them for making me conflicted about the pairings. . UkrainexBelarus, RussiaxLiet, LietxBelarus, and so on... Not to mention a lot of you want RussiaxChina... What to do? ): I think I know where I want the pairings to go... so I may just go with that... =w=; I hope you guys like KoreaxChina... =w=;; *shot* I'll include a little RussiaxChina fanservice if you want though! D: It's kind of imperative for this fic anyway... You shall see why soon enough. =w= Oh, and soon, as in when they arrive home to England from Japan, there will be a discussion involving some business terms, so... DX I'll try and give definitions so you'll understand. :) I'm a bit of a Business & Enterprise fanatic, see...

Well, yup, next time they'll be going on a hike... Thus ensue dramatic events! :D

_**Shoutout to one of my best friends in the entire universe, or of any form of existence... Jay/Frussia is sixteen today! :D I know I've wished you happy birthday a few times already and stuff, but still. Happy sixteenth birthday once again, git. I love you. :) 3**_


	23. Ame ni Haru!

_"Don't be such a _baby_, Arthur. Blimey, Liz, this guy's pathetic. How can you like him?"_

_"Oh, leave him alone. Come on, let's get on with it."_

_"B-but, Elizabeth... your parents will get mad again."_

_"Arthur, they won't know. It's not as if they'd do anything anyway. Come _on_!"_

_"But... I don't..."_

_"I thought you wanted to be something, Arthur. Didn't you tell me you liked being a bit... rebellious? Liked living on the edge?"_

_"I don't feel it's wise to flirt with danger this closely. Elizabeth, _please_... Can't we just go?"_

_"Right after this. Come on, you said you would. Were you lying to me?"_

_"N-no, of course not! But I just--"_

_"You're either with us or against us, Arthur. We're going in." With a final scowl of disapproval and slight resentment (along with something else underlying it), Elizabeth followed her fellow rebellious youths through the alleyways._

_"No, Elizabeth--!" Arthur started, but she didn't turn back. He glanced around worriedly for a moment before forcing himself forward. _I can't let her do this,_ he thought in concern as he made a frantic dash behind the disappearing figure of his secret girlfriend. He huffed and panted for breath, the foggy white breath appearing before him in the chilly air. Looking up from where he was doubled over, he caught sight of bodies climbing up an escape ladder. They were going to break in. He had to stop them, or else... He didn't want to think what could happen to his dear Elizabeth._

_Steeling himself and licking his lips as a worried habit, he berated himself for hesitating and sped forwards. He clambered up the escap ladder clumsily, his hands sweating and his body trembling. He was a good climber and knew how to be silent - he _had _had military training, after all - although he was far too overwrought with emotions in the current situation. He heard a crashing sound and nearly squeaked when he felt glass cascade upon him. They'd smashed the window. He wouldn't make it up there in time. He tried to climb faster, pursing his lips and wincing painfully when he felt stray shards of glass dig into his palms, and one of the falling pieces nick his neck._

_He was almost gasping when he reached the window. He wasn't out of breath from the exercise of it, but merely from all of the feeling he felt swirling inside of him. He could feel his eyes sting. Why had he ever gone along with it? Was it his fault Elizabeth had become so rebellious? He hoped not... He felt his heart lurch. _Her parents would blame me. If they knew she still dated me, anyway, _he thought miserably as he swung his leg over the ledge and jumped in soundlessly. _Not that it matters. I'll never be able to marry her anyway. Her parents work for the government, and I... Well, I _have_ no parents. I'm garbage to her family. They said as much when we met._ He bit his lip worriedly and dismissed his pessimistic thoughts with a shake of his head. _Stop getting distracted, Arthur! _The twelve year old chastised himself as he convinced himself to carry on. He scrutinised the area and swallowed loudly._

_Elizabeth really intended to steal...?_

_He shook it off again and dashed madly down the hallway when he heard a sharp _clang! _noise. He gasped and stuck himself flush against the wall, heart thumping madly in his chest as he tried his hardest not to breathe too loudly. He clenched his eyes shut, thinking, _Oh, Lord... What am I getting myself into? _He clenched his fists tightly as his chest heaved with his frantic breathing. _I'm doing it for Elizabeth. I'm doing it for Eliza--

Bang!

_Arthur jumped in shock, pupils dilating as he clutched at his chest and almost hyperventillated. Sweat drenched his brow and he was trembling violently. _That... sounded like... a gun... Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God, _he thought fretfully. He glanced around panickedly. When he saw no one, he took a step out of his hiding place, away from his momentarily lapse into cowardice, and dashed down the deserted hallway. He heard loud talking, but the words drifted senselessly through his ears and it was incomprehensible. _Elizabeth...!

_He gasped when he heard an alarm flare off right after another shot. Suddenly, the abandoned hallways were flooded with fluorescent flashing lights. The loud screech of the alarm was defeaning, but he could still hear his heart beating sporadically as he reached the source of the gunshot. He stopped by the door and glanced in, heart stopping in his chest when he saw a big man holding a gun to one of Elizabeth's friend's heads. His petrified emerald eyes slowly moved down to the floor._

_He felt sick._

_A pale body, covered in blood that was seeping onto the cold tile floor, was lying lifelessly. Half of his head had been destroyed when he was shot. Arthur actually felt the bile climbing up his burning throat. It was suddenly difficult to swallow. The gun clicked again, but didn't shoot, although the small sound was enough to make him freeze in fear._

_"Children should not meddle in such situations," the man said quietly, his voice somehow sounding melodious and jubilant and yet so chilling and threatening at once. It made Arthur want to hide. But he didn't, for he could see his wonderful Elizabeth shaking, terrified, in the corner. Blood covered her faces and clothes, but Arthur wasn't entirely sure if it were her own. Suddenly, he ruled out the possibility of ever becoming a doctor._

_"Y-you aren't much older than us!" one of the rebellious youths challenged, although his stutter did not go unmissed. The man holding the gun chuckled and turned his gun on the boy who had spoken._

_"You're right, I am only sixteen. Perhaps I am an overachieving hypocrite, hmm?" his sweet but sickening and creepy voice questioned softly as he raised the gun. With a shadowed smile and glinting eyes, he shot him._

_Arthur saw everything._

_The boys eyes widened to the point where you think the eyeballs would drop out. They quickly became dilated and bloodshot. He opened his mouth to speak or scream, but only a torrent of blood flew out. He choked on the red substance as he staggered back, appearing to have lost control of his co-ordination. Then, he fell. More blood escaped onto the tiled floor and he saw it all. He covered his mouth. _I'm going to be sick, _he thought, inwardly gagging and accidentally letting out a choking noise. His own eyes widened and he froze completely when he heard the gun click. Footsteps._

_"Oh! You didn't tell me you had another friend! Shall we introduce each other?"_

Oh my God._ He was so close. He was towering right above Arthur, somehow managing to move swiftly in spite of his large stature. It was pathetic, but Arthur just remained frozen, impossible large green eyes stuck on the floor, afraid to look up. He didn't want to look into those eyes._

_It seemed the bigger teenager did not approve. Arthur let out a cry when his hair was grabbed and he was forced to look up as the larger boy lifted him to his tiptoes. He was still shorter. He felt exposed. Helpless. Terrified._

_"I do not like it when people ignore me," he said with a disturbing dark smile, and Arthur shivered. "So, little boy, what's your name?"_

_Green eyes flickered over to the girl shaking in the corner and suddenly courage and anger bubbled up inside of him. He spat in the man's eye, but the guy was seemingly uneffected. Slowly, very slowly, with careful precision, he raised a hand to rub his eye. Then, he slapped Arthur hard across the face before tossing him carelessly into the room. Arthur gasped in pain, raising a hand to his burning cheek and hissed again. He couldn't move his jaw. Managing to open his burning eyes and ignoring the shrill ringing in his ears, he realised he was sitting in blood. Horrified, he pushed himself up and stumbled backwards, only to stumble over another body. He gasped in revulsion and covered his mouth to supress the retches he felt coming up._

_The older boy chuckled as he slowly made his way over to him. Using the barrel of his pistol, he tilted Arthur's chin up. Wide, petrified, disgusted emerald eyes met uncaring and smug, dark violet ones._

_"Tell me your name."_

**O-o-O-o-O**

He jumped up with a loud gasp, eyes wide as he shook violently. He glanced around frantically, but everything was blur. Where was he? He could still hear the shrill ringing. It was dark. Oh, God, he couldn't see. What was happening? What was--?!

"Arthur!"

He froze, panting heavily, eyes wide but unseeing. "N-no... I didn't tell you my name... No...! Get away!" he screamed, lashing out, but his wrists were caught and he was pinned down. He let out another shout and thrashed violently, restlessly, fearfully--

He felt the burning in his cheek again. This time, his jaw could move, because he was still screaming. But it burned. He felt like crying. _Elizabeth, help me!_

"Arthur! Goddammit, Arthur! Can't you hear me? Arthur! I'm here!"

_That's not her voice... It's deeper. Who is it? No, no... Get away...!_

Suddenly, something soft and warm and comforting covered his lips and he stilled again, his violent thrashing dying down to an uncomfortable squirm until he just stopped moving. He felt the adrenaline rush die down and suddenly felt exhausted. He collapsed backwards against something firm. It also felt comforting. The warm feeling in his lips slowly went away and he slumped even more, panting for breath.

"Arthur?"

The deep voice again. Who was saying his name? "Who...?" he began nervously, writhing in the grasp as his wrists were still being held.

"It's me, Alfred. Only Alfred."

"Al...fred...?" he whispered hoarsely, the name tasting sweet on his lips. He swallowed and forced his eyes open. He felt a bit disorientated and clenched his eyes shut for a moment before he regained his composure. The hands grasping his wrists moved down and clasped his hands in a firm but gentle hold. Finding himself again, his eyes flickered back open and he tilted his head upwards, finding that he was leaning on the man's shoulder. In fact, he was situated in the man's lap. If he were more conscious than he was, he'd probably lash out in embarrassment. As it was... "Alfred..." he said with a small sigh and closed his eyes again as he let his head fall back against his shoulder, hardly noticing Alfred tense.

There was a pause, and then Alfred relaxed again.

"You okay now?" he whispered softly, his tone still excessively worried.

"No," he answered honestly, squeezing the bigger hands weakly. "Don't let go yet," he whispered pleadingly.

Another pause. Alfred squeezed back.

"I won't. Ever."

**O-o-O-o-O**

He yawned as he cracked his eyes open, glaring furiously when light invaded his senses. He felt like he had a hangover, although he knew that to be false as he hadn't drank anything last night. He shifted, wondering why his bed felt so much more warm than usual...

Did beds have hands?

Last time he checked, they didn't.

Swallowing, he turned his head slightly, eyes widening comically at the sight of a slumbering American spooning him from behind. He felt his face heat up instantly, and a strange warmth pooling throughout his body as butterflies fluttered mercilessly in his stomach. He clenched his eyes shut and swallowed nervously as he repeated the thought, _Oh my God, oh my God_, over and over again in his mind.

He briefly debated elbowing the American awake and making a mad dash for it, but instantly felt a bit mean for it. Sighing a long-suffering sigh, Arthur also banished the idea of attempting to slither out of his hold, but, _fuck_, did that brat have muscles--

_...I did not just think that._

He shook his head dismissively and tried to relax. Surprisingly, he found it easy to grow comfortable in the possessive grasp he was intertwined in and felt his lips twitch involuntarily. _Gah! No! Stop smiling! ...I guess it wouldn't do any harm_, he thought, letting his smile grow as he shuffled against Alfred more. _It's not like he can see it._

"Mm..."

Arthur's eyes flashed open. He hadn't realised he'd dozed off. He stiffened immediately when he felt the American shifting and stretching slightly, and then tighten his grasp around his waist. His face flared up once again. _Oh my God. Oh my God_.

He felt Alfred freeze behind him and swallowed nervously. Would he pull away? He bit his lip and shakily squeezed the American's hands. A long pause. Too long. Arthur wanted to die.

Then Alfred squeezed back. And he smiled.

**O-o-O-o-O**

"Is everyone ready?" Meimei asked cheerily, beaming wonderfully at everyone. Her smile twitched when Yao praised her beauty and she resisted the urge to kick him.

_Ah... Like Komui and Lenalee from _-Man_... _Kiku thought in amusement as he took a hasty picture, giving Meimei a 'peace' sign when she glanced sharply at him. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, but she looked amused as well.

"We're ready," Thuy answered, punching Niran's shoulder for him to respond.

Niran grinned and saluted. "Ma'am, yes, ma'am!" he said brightly. Thuy looked down at the floor to hide her small smile.

"What about breakfast?" Alfred whined petulantly, accidentally brushing Arthur's shoulder because they were standing so close together. Both blushed, but neither moved away.

Another flash of light, another peace sign from Kiku.

"We're eating on the way," Thuy replied, raising a brow at her brother. _Otaku_, she thought fondly.

Alfred blinked. "Ah... Cool," he commented with a grin, although it looked more sheepish and timid than usual, and a flush still dusted his cheeks.

Matthew nudged Francis, nodding towards them, and Francis smirked. With a roll of his eyes, he whispered in French, "_Oblivious idiots, the both of them._"

The Canadian laughed softly, all traces of awkwardness from the other day gone. "_You're right_," he agreed.

Francis smiled back, deciding that Matthew's smile was worth a slightly broken heart.

"So, let's go! Da-ze!" Yong Soo cheered with a toothy grin, grabbing Yao's hand. The Chinese man rolled his eyes.

"Still so childish, aru," he muttered under his breath, exasperated when Yong Soo beamed and took it as a compliment. He tried not to smile back. It would only encourage the endearing idiot.

"Partner up, everyone," Thuy said, and immediately grabbed Niran's hand. He grinned at her, and she blushed crimson and looked away.

"Shut up," she instantly grumbled. Niran just chuckled happily and squeezed her hand tightly.

Without shame, Heracles slipped his hand into Kiku's. The Japanese man flushed slightly, but smiled up at the brunet. "_Arigatou_," he said.

Heracles lifted their intertwined hands and placed a butterfly kiss on Kiku's. "_Douitashimashita_."

"_Mon cher_," Francis drawled, although it was said gently, not flirtatiously. "Would you be my... _partner_ for this trip?" he asked softly, holding out his hand and offering a hopeful smile. Matthew felt his heart skip a beat and his face heat up. Why did the French man have to look so _hopeful_? He couldn't say no to that. He lightly placed his hand in Francis's, feeling guilt eat away at him when the man's eyes shone. To avoid the emotions bubbling up inside of him, he glanced to see his brother glancing towards and away from the Brit beside him. He frowned in annoyance. _So stubborn_, he thought. "So stubborn," Francis commented, apparently now a mind reader. Matthew agreed despite the descerning ability the man seemed to have.

Lovino eyed Ludwig and Feliciano enviously, wondering how they could be so easy-going. Feliciano was openly, well, _glomping _the German, who just blushed and slyly returned the hug. He was soon surprised, for Antonio suddenly appeared in front of him. "What are you--?"

When Antonio grabbed Lovino's hand without permission and began dancing around the room, he _accidentally _bumped into Alfred and whispered in Spanish, "_Ask him_."

Alfred glanced at him, blinking. _One: How would he know that I know Spanish? Two: Goddammit, am I that obvious? _Heaving a small sigh as the Spaniard winked, he turned to Arthur, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. _"Hey, Arthur, be my partner, okay?" Guh, no way... That sounds so dumb..._ He pursed his lips and just _did it_ - he grabbed Arthur's cold hand. He felt the man still for a long, long second, and then he felt an almost imperceptible grip in return to his.

He slumped in relief, wondering why Arthur's approval meant so much to him. He didn't dwell on it, but he did feel unusually warm.

_"Don't let go yet."_

_"I won't. Ever."_

**O-o-O-o-O**

"It's surprisingly warm in Japan," Arthur commented contentedly as he walked up the hill beside Kiku, their own partners trailing behind, glaring daggers at the two in front of them.

"Maybe 'cause it's always raining in England," Alfred supplied in a clipped tone, irked. He regretted it when Arthur scowled at him. _You think he'd be grateful after last night... _He frowned suddenly. _Last night... God... What the hell happened? He... he was screaming in his sleep. "Violet eyes," he'd said. "Elizabeth," he said_, Alfred thought, clenching his fists tightly. _What was he dreaming of...? I helped him, so don't I deserve to know?_ He looked back up, glowering at Arthur's back, but his gaze softened slightly when he saw the carefree smile on the blond man's face as he idly spoke to Kiku. _Ah... This is enough for now..._

"Alfred, right?" a sleepy voice drawled from his right. He turned and blinked at the brunet.

"Oh, yeah... bar guy," he said, grinning sheepishly.

"Name's Heracles," he muttered, but he didn't seem offended. "So, how's your Juliet then?" He nodded towards the Brit.

"Juliet...? Oh," he said, blushing, remembering what had happened on their first encounter. _I said Arthur was my date!_ "I dunno," he replied honestly with a sigh.

"You don't know?" the Greek repeated calmly as he gazed tiredly at the sky.

"Nah," he replied. "I just... He's..." He lowered his voice. "He's stubborn."

Heracles smiled. "As are you, I've noticed," he answered in an equal quiet tone.

Alfred huffed. "Yeah, but..." He pursed his lips before running his hand through his hair with a stressed sigh. "I don't even know."

"You're confused."

"Yeah."

"Frustrated."

"Uh huh."

"Have you kissed yet?"

"Yeah - Wait, huh?" Alfred's eyes widened as he blushed.

"So, you have," the turquoise-eyed man murmured thoughtfully. He smiled languidly at Alfred. "I'll do you a favour," he said.

The American blinked. "What...? A favour...? What do you--?" He was cut off when he suddenly tripped over _something_ and was sent reeling into Arthur. Both let out a loud yell as Alfred fell on top of Arthur and they rolled down the hill, grasping each other as they rolled and rolled and - stopped. Alfred gasped for breath as he stared down at Arthur with wide, surprised eyes. Surprisingly just-as-wide and shocked eyes stared back, and the younger man thought that Arthur looked really cute when his brows weren't furrowed, and he was writhing underneath him with a faint flush and he just wanted to lean down and--

"Wh-what the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" Arthur squawked, ruining the moment. Alfred blinked and pulled away, blushing almost as much as the shorter man. He huffed and stood up clumsily.

"I tripped," he muttered and offered a hand.

Arthur brushed it off and stood himself, scowling at Alfred. "Well, b-be more careful! Idiot!" he said, but his face was still red and he looked almost shy.

_Cute_. "I told you, I tripped!" the American said defensively, although he suddenly wanted to laugh because Arthur's hair was even more unruly than usual and he had a few stray leaves in the nest of sandy blond hair. _Very cute_.

The Brit glowered (pouted) at him and folded his arms, feeling vulnerable what with how the taller boy was staring at him. "_What_?" he spat.

Alfred smirked slightly as he removed the leaves from Arthur's hair, giving it a quick ruffle and letting it linger there for longer than necessary before reclutantly pulling away. He smiled. "You had leaves in your hair," he offered as an explanation, cheeks pink.

Arthur's blush deepened. "Oh..." _My heart's beating so fast..._

"_Guuuys_!" Feliciano called. They looked up, seeing the Italian waving frantically at them, and the two German brothers were standing behind him, the albino looking a bit out of place. "Hurry up!"

Both flushed deeper. "C-coming!" Alfred called. Without thinking, he grabbed Arthur's hand and pulled him along as he ran back to the group.

"_Douitashimashita_," Heracles muttered. Kiku glanced up in surprise before smiling and chuckling softly, gently whacking the man's arm. Heracles grinned back.

**O-o-O-o-O**

"Looks like it's gonna rain," Gilbert observed softly. "Wanna set up camp and have some grub?" he enquired, offering a weak looking grin. Antonio, Francis, Ludwig and Arthur appraised him closely for a moment, both of the latter men a bit perturbed when the former two dragged the German off to speak.

"They're his closest friends," Ludwig offered gruffly, glancing briefly at Arthur.

The shorter blond sighed in response and nodded in defeat.

Disliking the melancholy atmosphere, Meimei clapped her hands. "Who's up for roasted marshmallows?" She grinned toothily as the others all scuttled together. "Ah... Could someone go and get firewood?" she asked sheepishly. Everyone groaned, glancing up at the dark sky. Arthur rolled his eyes, used to the rain.

"I'll go," he volunteered.

"Alone?" Meimei asked with a frown.

"I don't think you should go alone, Arthur-san," Kiku agreed, backing up his sister, but not for the same reason. _Alfred-san and Arthur-san can then bond... Ah, this reminds me of Kizuna! I think I have that manga with me... Although it would be embarrassing is Heracles-kun saw them..._

"I'll go with him," Alfred offered quickly, and then blushed slightly and averted his gaze when everyone looked at him. "W-well, I mean... Arthur's kinda small! Someone's gotta protect him, so... Yeah," he sputtered, fidgeting and scowling away into the distance. He jumped and turned when he felt someone touch his arm. Glancing down slightly, he saw a flustered Brit smiling warmly at him. His breath hitched. "Ah..."

"I-I'm very grateful, Alfred," he said, feeling really weird. _I don't smile often, so I probably look very strange..._ he thought worriedly, but thankfully, soon after Alfred stared at him in shock, the boy grinned.

"Heh. Well," the American said smugly, "I am a hero."

Arthur rolled his eyes, but couldn't stop himself from smiling. "So glad I could boost your ego," he drawled sarcastically.

"So glad you can't live without me," the taller man said with a wink, seemingly not noticing the implications. Arthur willed away his blush and just grumbled inarticulately.

"Wh-whatever, idiot. Let's just go," he finally managed to say, turning abruptly to disguise his bright red face. Alfred blinked, clueless, before following the man, sticking his hands in his pockets.

"Please be careful," Kiku called after them softly, hiding a smirk.

The Greek beside him blinked, wondering why the small Japanese man was giving off such an _evil_ vibe... He shook it off, telling himself that it was just the bad weather conditions. Speaking of which... "Won't they get caught in the rain...?" he pondered sleepily, staring up at the grey sky languidly. He hummed thoughtfully when he heard a quiet rumble echo around them, and there was a very brief flash of lightning. Feliciano whimpered and scuttled closer to Ludwig, who flushed but readily accepted his burden.

"Ah... I see," Kiku said, still smiling in a weird way. "I guess they will."

**O-o-O-o-O**

"Looks like it's gonna rain," Alfred observed quietly, staring up at the darkening sky and breathing in slowly when he heard a roll of thunder accompanied by a shock of lightning.

"So it does," the Brit drawled absentmindedly, not really paying attention. Alfred pouted at him but decided not to whine about it. He liked storms, strangely enough.

"Y'know," he said softly, "When I was a kid, my mom used to take me and Mattie out and..." He was surprised when emerald eyes locked onto his. He flushed and looked down, glowering at the ground. "F-forget it."

"No," Arthur said quietly. "I want to hear." He offered Alfred that warm smile again, and the American felt his heart flutter. His blush deepened. _Holy fuck... How does his smile do this to me? Jesus... But... he has a nice smile_, he thought embarrassedly. _He should do it more often_. Another flash of lightning and another growl of thunder, and Alfred began to feel the drizzle starting off the beginning of the storm.

"Uh," he said when he realised the older man was watching him expectantly. "Well, like I said... um... When it rained, she liked to go out and dance in it." He smiled melancholily. "She got sick sometimes, but usually she had a pretty good immune system. After me and Mattie were born, she used to take us out to the park a lot, even when it rained, and we played on the swings and danced in the rain..." He closed his eyes, a nostalgic smile coming to his face as his footsteps slowed. He removed his hands from his pockets and stuck his arms out as if balancing. "Y'know that film? _Anastasia_? The _Disney_ one? She liked singing _Once Upon A December_ a lot. She had a nice singing voice."

Arthur smiled softly. _Disney, huh...? Figures..._

"You know the lyrics, right?" Alfred asked, finally opening his bright azure eyes again and pinning Arthur with their intensity. The American held his hand out and, with a toothy and geeky grin, tilted his head. "Dance with me?"

The Brit's eyes widened before he blushed crimson. "Are you daft?" he said softly, but found himself taking the idiot's hand anyway. _If so... I'm just as bad..._

Alfred just grinned. "Yeah," he answered, pulling Arthur flush against him. "You know how to, right?"

"Of course," Arthur replied huffily. "Although I'm only accustomed to slow dancing. Well, that... and... er..." _Irish dancing. Ugh..._

The taller man's grin softened. "That's cool," he murmured quietly. "I like the old school styles." He thread his fingers through the Briton's and placed his other hand on Arthur's hip, whilst the shorter man hesitantly put his hand on Alfred's shoulder. They started off slow, just swaying back and forth, stepping forwards, back, forwards, side, back occassionally until the sky broke and rain began to pour down heavily. But they didn't care. Instead, Alfred beamed and suddenly twisted Arthur around, and then pulled the man back against his chest. He used too much force and the Brit stumbled, falling against him, but they remained upright. Arthur looked up into the younger man's eyes, mesmerised, and smiled.

Slowly, Alfred smiled back. "_Dancing bears, painted wings, things I almost remember_," he began, grinning impishly as he swayed with the Englishman.

Arthur rolled his eyes, and then started when the American stared expectantly at him. Flushing and looking down at his shoes self-consciously, he whispered, "_And a song someone sings... Once upon a December_." He shivered slightly, feeling the rain water instantly drenching them both. It was so cold, and yet Alfred felt so wonderfully warm...

The younger man hesitated for only a moment before he removed his hand from Arthur's hip to tilt the Brit's chin up. "_Someone holds me safe and warm. Horses prance through a silver storm_," he sang, thumb brushing Arthur's soft lips carefully before he drew back, embarrassed, and placed his hand on his hip again, feeling a warm, tingly sensation in his hand.

"_Figures dancing gracefully across my memory_," Arthur added melodiously. He tilted his head when Alfred avoided his gaze and didn't finish the lyrics. He rolled his eyes fondly, but nervously. He tried to speed the dance up slightly, stepping forward brusquely. Alfred blinked in surprise before smirking back, and then shook his head at Arthur and began leading again.

"_Far away, long ago, glowing dim as an ember_." He twirled the Brit again, who still wasn't anticipating it, but didn't stagger this time. Grinning, Alfred yanked him back towards him, grabbing his hand and twirling in circles together.

"_Things my heart used to know, things it yearns to remember_." They twirled again before Alfred decided to dive in (despite a potential rant later), and dipped Arthur. Their faces were ever so close, barely an inch apart, and he could feel Arthur panting, see his flushed face framed perfectly by his wet, messy hair, and his eyes were sparkling. He leaned even closer, their lips almost touching...

"_And a song someone sings_..." they sung together, grasping onto each other tightly as their eyes fluttered closed. "_Once upon a December_..."

**O-o-O-o-O**

_**Axis Powers Hetalia**_** belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

**Don't you dare laugh at me. It's a nice song. Shut the hell up! -**_**Blushes furiously**_**- B-besides... Alfred's mum told me to write it. She wrote it on a chalkboard. She's a ghost, see. What? **_**Alfred**_** believes in ghosts. So should you.**

_**Although I don't... but hey, it helps my argument...**_

**Ahhh... I got home at about six in the evening today! Why? I had extra Espanol classes! But it was surprisingly fun despite how many times I fucked up. Pfft. I forgot how to say "puede." -**_**FACEPALM x9,000**_**-**

**Speaking of which, I decided Al speaks Spanish due to the insurmountable amount of people in America who do actually hablo Espanol. So, he does too. Isn't he a little overachiever? -**_**Ruffles hair**_**-**

**So, school was pointless today. Off topic, but... I just read fanfiction and read about cars all day. .; No seriously, I was on and Top Gear sites in school. XD I can't believe no one noticed. Kiku, I borrowed your ninja skills.**

**Anyway, if anyone likes NARUTO, be sure to check out my new story: **_**That Was Just Your Life**_**! And yeah, Suzume Chiyu, you were correct in guessing the title's origin! Have some tea-- ...Tch. Here, have coffee. -**_**Shoves coffee cup at you and huffs**_**- (-**_**kind of secretly maybellikescoffeealittle SHUT UP.**_**-)**

_**OH, ALSO.**_** Best thing about today? Fuck, my add. Spanish teacher likes Metallica. Epic fricking win much? :D**

**Next time****: Bad Friend Trio interaction along with MOAR USxUK! :D Also, next chapter has Russia & co. :)**

_**Thanks for reading!**_


	24. Kokoro wo komete no okuru ze!

It was a dark room. There weren't even artificial lights dangling from the invisible ceiling. The grandfather clock that stood strangely in the corner, looking very out of place in the otherwise plain room, ticking away loudly in the silence. One of the room's occupants stood still and silent, and the other two shifted and fidgeted nervously, casting worried glances at the door every so often. Minutes ticked by one by one, seeming to drag on and yet fly past so hastily. Too soon, however, there was the sound of a door crashing shut from outside of the room. Natalia's sharp gaze immediately flashed over to the door, anticipating the entrance of her brother. Yakaterina bit her lower lip nervously and Toris paled considerably, rubbing his arms to stop himself from trembling.

Footsteps echoed outside of the room, slow and taunting, and time continued flicking onwards, the grandfather clock looming ominously in the corner of the room. Finally, the doorknob squeaked as it moved, and the door creaked open. A threatening tall man stepped through, glinting violet eyes icy, not matching the seemingly warm smile on the pale face.

Immediately, Natalia stepped forward and bowed to her brother stiffly. "Brother," she said smoothly, face blank and voice a harsh whisper but eyes surprisingly full of feeling. "I've missed you."

The tall blond hesitated before smiling at her and then approaching his eldest sister, who granted him a weary smile in return. "Yakaterina, it's good to see you," he said softly.

Yakaterina glanced briefly at her younger sister, who appeared stoic, although she was sure the younger girl was envious and possibly very hurt. Sighing ruefully, she nodded back to her brother. "Yes," she replied quietly. "It has been a long while, brother."

Toris, as if sensing Natalia's disappointment, moved to place a hand on her shoulder. Before he could even touch her, though, she swerved and slapped his hand away, glaring icy daggers at him. He smiled sheepishly, attempting to mask his own hurt feelings, as he nursed his stinging hand. Yakaterina had watched the exchange and just shook her head. _I feel responsible for my younger siblings's lack of success, especially emotionally..._ she thought sadly.

"Well, my sisters," Ivan drawled softly with an ominous smile. "Please, take a seat. I shall discuss the issue with you." His eyes darkened and his smile turned into a smirk, providing Yakaterina with a worrisome sense of foreboding...

Taking a seat next to Natalia and across from Ivan, she braced herself for the mission she knew she was about to receive.

**O-o-O-o-O**

The rain was still cascading down and it was almost impossible to see through the surprisingly thick layer of water. _I wish Kiku informed me that we would face such turmultuous weather conditions_, Arthur thought, although he wasn't so much irritated as dreamy. He felt a bit stupid for his 'schoolgirl crush' thoughts, but he was just too happy to care about it. He tried to wipe off his euphoric grin as he grabbed some more firewood, tucking it under his shirt to keep it relatively dry. He glanced back up to see Alfred quite far up ahead. Rolling his eyes, he altered the position of the wood in his arms and jogged over to the vague shape of Alfred. "Don't go too far ahead, you idiot," he chastised lightly. He'd have playfully punched the other male in the shoulder if it weren't for the firewood.

"Why? Afraid you'll get lost?" the American returned, his grin showing his amusement.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "No," he replied levelly. "I'm afraid _you_ will get lost." He tried to maintain a chastising look, but it died and he dissolved into soft laughter when Alfred pouted at him.

The taller man's pout softened into a smile. "You should smile and laugh more often," he said, making Arthur freeze. Alfred turned away with a light blush and scowl as Arthur just stared at him in shock. "You just... I mean, you look nicer when you're not angry and... L-let's just get back to camp," he said stiffly, swerving around, but halted when he felt a soft pressure on his arm.

"Thank you," came an almost timid voice.

Alfred's blush deepened and he glanced back at the Brit, who was cradling a load of sticks with one arm like a baby. The American's tension dissolved and he let out a breathy laugh, grabbing a few of the sticks that he knew Arthur was struggling with. He grinned. "You're welcome," he replied cheerily, but it was somehow more serious than his usual jubilant tone. The unusually deep voice exerted by the younger man sent a strange feeling through Arthur, making him shudder slightly. Alfred noticed. "You cold?" he asked.

Cheeks flaring red, Arthur nodded jerkily. _Yes, it's just the weather_, he told himself, squinting his eyes shut for a moment. _Just the weather_.

"We should get back to camp then," Alfred said with a determined nod, quickly thinking up a video game situation. "I'll be Mario and you be Princess Peach!" he declared dramatically, pointing at nothing and looking off into the distance.

His heroic pose was soon cut short when he felt a pain run through his arm. He whined and rubbed it, casting a kicked puppy look at Arthur who was now cursing under his breath and... sucking one of his knuckles... _Oh, fuck. Please stop doing that..._ the American thought, swallowing deeply as his eyes centred on Arthur's pink lips wrapped around his knuckle, tongue occassionally zipping out to lick it... He managed to tear his gaze away, letting out a tense breath he hadn't realised he had been holding. He forced a childish grin, banishing the weird, disturbing feelings he had just experienced.

"You shouldn't even _attempt_ to fight me," he said smugly. "I am training to be a cop. Might even join the military at some point," he said, his arrogant tone one. now drifting off to a rather wistful one.

The Briton blinked before smiling. "Have you always wanted to be a police officer?" he enquired softly.

The American also blinked, seemingly coming back from his dream world. He smiled back. "Well, I've always wanted to do something that'd benefit society on a whole," Alfred explained with a sheepish grin.

"You're a good person, Alfred," Arthur said quietly, his voice almost drowned out by the torrents of rain. The taller man tensed slightly and scowled, opening his mouth to deny the statement, but Arthur moved speedily and covered his mouth with the palm of his cold hand. Alfred's frown deepened. He could easily remove his cold hand from his mouth, but looking into Arthur's paradoxical emerald eyes... he didn't want to. "You may not see it, but I do," the Briton continued gently, a small, sad smile tugging at his enticing lips, and a variety of emotions swirling in his entrancing eyes. _Why does your smile look so... fragile?_ Alfred wondered, eyes dancing as he drank in the bittersweet image of his... friend? What was Arthur to him anyway? He... He actually had no idea... All he knew right now was that the feeling of Arthur's skin on his was sending strange sparks of electricity spiralling through him and blurring his thoughts. Closer, closer... "Alfred..." The unusually quiet voice whispered breathily, uncertainly. Alfred blinked, eyes fluttering back open. He hadn't realised he'd closed them. When he looked into the shorter man's confused and nervous green eyes, he realised... maybe he wasn't the only one who was scared of... these emotions. These feelings. Whatever they were, it was something he had never felt before. It was both terrifying and thrilling. Electrifying. "Alfred," the voice repeated again, and the American looked down at the bewildered and apprehensive man, whose eyes were wide and his face was flushed...

He pulled away. "Let's get back to camp," he repeated breathily, missing the hurt look that flashed across the older man's face.

"Okay," Arthur replied levelly, masking his wounded feelings. Hugging the firewood to his chest, he followed Alfred in silence. Every step they took felt like an eternity as the rain pelted down against them and the wind seemed adamant about pushing them in diverse directions. The insurmountable rain cascading down had become even heavier and it was nigh impossible to see through the curtain of water. Arthur treaded carefully to avoid stray roots that could possibly trip him and send him knocking into the taller man. _How awkward would that be?_ he mused cryptically, irritated, confused and hurt by Alfred's previous behaviour. Taking in a deep breath, he berated himself, _Think, Arthur. You're a therapist. He's probably feeling a lot of mixed feelings and emotions right now and you aren't helping! _he thought harshly, and then deflated. _But... I can't help it..._ He closed his stinging eyes. _He makes... He makes _me_ feel..._

He was torn out of his thoughts when he heard a loud shout. His eyes flashed open and he immediately saw Alfred falling backwards. Not even sparing time to think, he dropped the sticks and lunged forward and grabbed his hand. He gasped in pain when he felt his arm bearing the brunt of the American's weight. It was as if his arm had been ripped out of his socket. But when his vision returned and he saw Alfred's panicked face, he told himself to get the hell over it, and he grabbed Alfred's other hand with his. He only then noticed his ragged breathing that was bordering on hyperventillating and forced himself to _calm down_. If he had a panic attack, it wouldn't do _anyone_ any good, especially Alfred. He swallowed and let his breathing slow down to an almost normal rate before attempting to talk. When he did, his voice was shaking, but he sounded calm enough. "Alfred," he said, "Don't bother explaining what happened, or panicking," _like I just did_, "I'm going to pull you up, okay?"

Alfred nodded jerkily before halting. "N-no!" he exclaimed worriedly. "I-I'm too heavy for you to pull me up!" he breathed, eyes wide and voice frightened.

The Brit licked his lips, a nervous habbit. He winced at the strain in his arms and the horrible pain flaring up his right. He could hold on much longer, but damned if he'd let Alfred fall...! "No, you aren't," he soothed calmingly, forcing himself to relax. It was no use. His heart was pumping faster than it had ever before, almost tearing itself out of his chest. He could feel himself shaking. But the fear in Alfred's eyes brought out his protective side and he steeled himself. "I'm going to pull you up," he repeated adamantly, determined.

"A-Arthur, you can't--" Alfred began, but Arthur evidently wasn't listen. His tight clamp on his hands tightened even further and he sucked in a deep breath as he pulled with all his might, trying to get into a sitting position to drag the American up. He felt his muscles scream in agony and he held his breath as he pulled and pulled and _pulled_, dismissing the horrible pain and just focusing on saving Alfred because he--

_I love you_.

They panted heavily, shaking and breathing and clinging onto each other as the rain chilled them even more. But the rain didn't matter. Everything seemed to disappear around them. Alfred finally managed to pry his eyes open and he stared at the man lying beneath him, who was staring right back, eyes still as wide as ever, filled with disbelief and fear and relief and he just...

_Click_.

"You... saved me," he breathed, deep azure eyes pinning Arthur in place.

Green eyes fluttered closed as he breathed. "Are... are you alright?" he whispered, unable to look the younger man in the eyes. _I love you_, he thought. _I'm a fool_, he told himself.

"Yeah," Alfred murmured breathlessly, letting his arms give out and twisting himself to lay beside the Briton. "Are you?"

"Yeah," Arthur mumbled back, feeling exhausted. He let out a very soft chuckle, and the American glanced at him.

"What?" he asked quietly. How could he be laughing after _that_ ordeal?

"I don't know," Arthur replied honestly, keeping his eyes tightly shut. Why were they still stinging so much? _I don't know. I don't know when this happened, or why this happened, but I wish it didn't. I love you, you fool. God, I'm so stupid_, he thought miserably, letting out choked sobs masked as laughs. He raised his right arm to cover his face but gasped and bit his lip.

"What's wrong?" Alfred asked instantly. How was he so perceptive of physical conditions, and yet so bloody unknowing when it came to emotions?

"N-nothing," Arthur replied tiredly, pursing his lips and thinking, _Don't look at my face, don't look at my face, don't think I'm crying. It's the rain, it's the rain. Just the rain_, over and over. "I just pulled a muscle or something probably," he explained and heaved himself up with his left arm, pleased to find it didn't hurt nearly as much as his right. "We should head back," he said. "The others will be worried by now..."

"Let me see your shoulder," Alfred ordered blankly, tone demanding, but his strong feeling melted away when the Brit cast him an almost pleading stare.

"Please," he said softly, almost inaudibly. "Not now. Just... not now."

The American's breath hitched and his eyes widened. _Is he... H-his eyes are red and... N-no, it can't be... It's gotta be the rain_, he told himself. Letting out a rueful breath, he gave a short nod and grabbed the now soaked and useless firewood they had gathered. He grabbed Arthur's pile as well, but then as soon as he took a step he almost pitched forward. White stars burst into his vision as a gut wrenching pain flashed through his leg and for a moment he thought he had passed out. When he felt a comforting pressure at his side, he leaned against it gratefully. "Thanks," he whispered.

Instead of replying, Arthur began singing softly. It was all Alfred could do to stay awake.

**O-o-O-o-O**

"I'm sorry I've been actin' weird," Gilbert grumbled softly, staring at his feet stubbornly.

Both his friends frowned deeply. Antonio reached forward and gently grabbed his chin, making the albino look up. The Spaniard's gaze softened when he met eyes full of tears. "Gilbert," he said softly, and his friend reluctantly met his eyes. "Please, we are your friends. You can tell us anything." He smiled his custom reassurring sunshiney smile. "Please, Gilbert. We are very worried."

The German hesitated for a long moment before sighing softly and leaning against Antonio, burying his face in his shoulder. "I've... been having... flashbacks," he muttered weakly into his friend's shoulder.

Francis leaned closer and wrapped an arm around Gilbert's back comfortingly. "Flashbacks?" he whispered quietly.

Antonio felt his friend nod against his chest. The Spaniard and French man exchanged concerned glances, almost afraid to ask the dreaded question that they were both thinking...

"Ivan Braginski," the German whispered softly, shivering as his breath hitched.

His friends closed their eyes and held him tighter. He'd just confirmed their suspicions.

**O-o-O-o-O**

"Kami-sama," Kiku breathed, eyes widening in horror when he saw his friends limping over to them. He and Heracles immediately rushed over to the American and Brit, Kiku worrying over Arthur and Heracles taking Alfred's weight and walking the rest of the way. "Daijobu ka, Arthur-kun?" he asked urgently, eyes wide and befuddled.

Arthur nodded jerkily, staring at the ground as he walked with his Japanese friend back to the camp. With his bangs shadowing his eyes, Kiku was unable to tell what his friend was feeling. Arthur may have been a trained therapist, but he had never been good at hiding his emotions. Kiku grasped his friend's wrist and lead him back over to the others, asking Heracles to patch Alfred up before gently dragging Arthur over to his tent that he had set up a while ago. He let Arthur sit down and waited for the other man to speak, to divulge to Kiku what was wrong. He should have known he didn't immediately take the bait. He never did.

"Arthur-kun," the older man said soothingly, but Arthur flinched nonetheless. He slumped, posture defeated, and drew into himself. "Arthur-kun," he repeated, more firm this time. It was difficult to talk to the Brit when he was upset. Usually, he masked it with anger. Sometimes, he just... he just became like this. "What's wrong?" he asked softly, placing his hand on top of Arthur's. He was surprised when the blond let out some kind of strangled sound. "Arthur-kun...?" he murmured reproachfully.

"You know, Kiku," the man whispered weakly, and Kiku was shocked and worried when he heard how... just how... _foreign_ his voice sounded. How _tired_ and _weak_ and so terribly _sad_... "I... I l-love you," the man breathed, and the Japanese man stilled, eyes wide. "At least... I-I _did_... I mean, I-I still do, but not... It's not... I..." The Brit breathed in a big intake of air before shaking his head. "I thought I was _in _love with you, but... I was wrong. I just... I feel a strong friendship for you," he explained. Kiku would have smiled at how _adorable_ he thought his close friend sounded right then if it weren't for how _broken_ he also sounded. "But now... I-I recently realised..." He swallowed painfully as hot tears slid down his face. Raising his head, he sent Kiku a broken, wounded smile. "I love someone... who will never love me back." He laughed, but he was no longer smiling, and it just dissolved into sobs. "It's the story of my life," he whispered as tears spilt from his eyes for the first time in years. And Kiku could do nothing but hold him, just like Arthur had done for him.

Far away, a man with violet eyes smirked.

**O-o-O-o-O**

_**Axis Powers Hetalia **_**belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

**I hope you're happy. I spent a good portion of my day writing this because I'm just that sad and have no life. ._. Be pleased with yourselves, sickos.**

**No, ignore me. XD; I'm tired and have a migraine so I'm just... blehhh. I'm off to bed.**

**Okay, well, I'm writing this at precisely 11:23pm, but I can't be bothered to upload it so you will be reading this tomorrow (well, today whilst you're reading this) and as such this shall be out of date.**

**Good night. Day. Afternoon. Evening. WHATEVER TIME IT IS WHERE YOU ARE.**

**Take care and be safe. Thanks for reading~! :)**

**(Writing this today, which is the day after yesterday, which was the day I wrote all the above. Today, I am as tired as hell. I didn't get any sleep. I fell asleep in school a few times. No teachers noticed thankfully. But ugh. So tired. Gosan out.)**


	25. Hitotsu no gengo wa keshite jūbun de wa!

_She collapsed._

_"Dancing bears, painted wings..."_

_Blue eyes, the same colour as his, burned with a rage unimaginable. Face flushed in anger, fury, hatred, as he approached, looming ominously above him. His presence was threatening, daunting, intimidating, and it honestly terrified him. usual but their father just dismissed him. As usual but their father just dismissed him. As usual. Incomprehensible shouts and screams blended all together into just a vague loud sound. The booming sounds suddenly became a constant _beeeep_, and his vision had momentarily disappeared into an explosion of white stars. The beep remained, louder now, as he panicked about his loss of vision. He realised he should have been glad for it when it finally pieced itself back together and the ugly face of his father, twisted in malice, was right before his._

_"Things I yearn to remember... Once upon a December..."_

_At this point, Matthew dashed into the fray, crying and begging for their father to, "Stop! Please, daddy! Please stop! Please--" He was picked up easily by the much larger man and tossed carelessly aside, slamming painfully into the edge of a desk and inadvertently knocking the music box off. Alfred watched as it fell, seemingly in sepia slow motion, and hit the ground, shattering as easily as glass. The beautiful chimes that didn't fit the situation ceased instantly, coming to a halt. Alfred stared at the fractured music box laying innocently beside his mother's pale, still hand. His bright azure eyes filled with water, but he didn't cry. That would only make it worse. He raised his gaze, forcing defiance into them, and stared into his father's eyes that mirrored his own. _I hate you for giving me your genes. I hate myself for being like you, _his eyes read, conveying an emotional, fiery message. His father stared back._

_"She's dying," he breathed, surprised by how level his voice sounded. He was petrified. His mother had collapsed during one of his father's rage escapades. She'd been unwell recently. Maybe more than recently. She'd always been pale and frail and thin, he'd just never noticed. He was scared she wouldn't make it. He glanced briefly to her motionless body but had to look away hastily after. She was usually so full of life, so bubbly, excitable. Seeing her silent and ashen like this... It felt wrong. He forced his eyes to remain on twin cerulean ones. So beautiful and yet so disgusting. _I hate you, dad._ "We have to get to a hospital."_

**O-o-O-o-O**

He woke up, unable to breathe, as their tires swerved in random directions, rain pelting down upon the window shield, twisting and turning and tires screeching. A scream. His brother's. Pain. His own.

He gasped, trying to fill his lungs with much needed air, gripping the sheets tightly as he stared, wide-eyed, down at himself. The panic and adrenaline slowly disippated when he saw no sign of blood and felt no pain. He twisted in his sheets to free himself of the cacoon he'd immersed himself in and groaned when he felt a painful twinge in his ankle. _My ankle hurts... but what...?_

It all suddenly flooded back to him. Him, dancing with Arthur in the rain, leading it, initiating it, _liking it_; him, collecting wood with Arthur, laughing happily; Arthur, saving him. All of his panic melted away suddenly and gave way to a strange fluttering feeling that made him feel light-headed and euphoric. Knowing he hadn't taken any ecstasy, he wasn't entirely certain why his synapse suddenly decided to produce excess serotonin. It made him a little nervous, but for some reason he felt disturbingly content. Then, terror flooded back to him. His mind was kind of blank. He recalled Arthur... rescuing him... but after that, his mind went blank.

He steeled himself as determination flooded him. _I have to see if he's okay_, he thought worriedly, crawling out of his makeshift bed and his tent. It was still drizzling lightly, but it was nothing like the earlier downpour. He rushed through the canopy quickly, checking the other tents to find the Brit, but halting when he peeked into his brother's. He was asleep, brows drawn into a troubled frown, and he was clinging tightly to Francis's shirt, who was holding back just as tightly. His eyelids were flickering ever so slightly. He was still awake.

_Why's he holding Matt...?_ He closed his eyes and shook his head, and pulled away from the tent, continuing to the next. Francis obviously made Matthew happy... so... it was okay, right...? He heaved a sigh and glanced in the next tent, exceedingly relieved when he noticed Arthur, but the feeling was soon replaced with dread when he noticed that the Englishman wasn't alone. Instead, he was holding onto Kiku weakly, and his eyes were bearly open. He was whispering something, far too quiet for Alfred to hear. Kiku was staring down at him ruefully, stroking his soft blond hair. The friendly gesture made the American irritated. He clenched his fists as a bubble of rage built up inside of him, steadily esacalating when he noticed the gently ministrations the Japanese man bestowed on his Brit--

_Wait, what...? _His eyes widened slightly and he stilled his fists which had previously been clenching and unclenching. His rapid breathing came to an abrupt halt as his mind froze. _My...? Mine...?_ His mind rasped, unable to grasp the concept. _Why am I thinking this way? What is it? Why...? I'm so damn confused...!_ He let out a small grown and buried his head in his hands, shaking it. _What the hell is wrong with me? I'm not _gay_! I'm not!_ His mind screamed over and over, so much so that it finally sunk in. _I'm..._ He shut his eyes tightly. Why was he repeating it so much? Why did he feel so weird around Arthur? Why did he always felt sparks of electricity around the other man, and yet feel so soft and comforted with his presence? Why? Why? _Why_? He just didn't _get it_!

"Alfred-san?" someone whispered softly, and Alfred's head jerked up, blue eyes wide and fearful as if he were a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. But then he remembered this man's fingers threading through Arthur's hair and managed to glare bitterly.

"What?" he snapped.

If anything, that only sparked amusement in Kiku's eyes. _Bastard_, Alfred thought, clenching his fists again. The Japanese man's eyes flickered down and then back up. He'd noticed. "Alfred-san," he repeated softly, tilting his head slightly. "I think Arthur-kun is waiting for you." He offered a strange smile, seemingly pleasant but with an underlying something that just...

Alfred narrowed his eyes before nodding stiffly. "Right. Yeah. Uh..."

"Is there something you wish to ask me, Alfred-san?" Kiku enquired with an excessively polite tone, eyes dancing but still somewhat serious. He was still worried for his best friend's outburst ealier... but maybe it could work to his own advantage? Arthur always was more honest when feeling vulnerable. Horrible as it sounded, it was true. Otherwise, Arthur was only honest when sick. Or drunk. Kiku didn't favour either though. Alfred shifted nervously, rubbing the back of his head and grimacing at another twinge in his ankle. Kiku blinked, and then decided to drop in, "Arthur-kun hurt his arm when he saved you."

The American's eyes widened and he stilled, shock filling him and freezing him completely. He could suddenly relate with Pokémon in the games, like the time when he first bought one and his Charmander was hit by electric shock and attained paralysis... He came back from his internal Poké-battle and saw Kiku scrutinising him. He shifted hs weight nervously, finally coming out of paralysis, and glanced away before meeting the other man's eyes defiantly. _Confidence_, he reminded himself. _At least pretend you have it_. "How is he?" he asked.

Kiku raised a brow before inclining his head with a smile. "See for yourself," he offered entirely uselessly before walking off, presumably to Heracles's tent. Alfred stared after him for a long moment, frowning, pondering, before sighing and giving in. Opening the flap of the tent, Alfred glanced in, surveying the blank landscape of the tent and then the dishellved figure lying on the floor. Pale and still.

He found himself crumping by Arthur's side and shaking him urgently, then freezing when oddly wide red-rimmed green eyes met his. The Brit looked away shyly but didn't bother sitting up. He felt incredibly awkward. He'd only just actually realised he was... that he... had feeling for Alfred, and it was _not _exactly reassurring when Alfred was his patient and nearly _four _years younger than him. The guy was still in university, for God's sake... _Usually, I'm the younger one in a relationship. This is a first_, he mused tiredly.

Alfred wasn't feeling much different than the other man. Shifting on his knees, he glanced around nervously and fiddled with his thumbs, having no idea what to do or what to say or-or _anything_... And with Arthur lying their, looking so helpless and sad, he just...

_Click_.

"Arthur," he breathed softly. _I feel something for you. Something discernable, but also something I don't want to acknowledge. I'm scared. It's exhilirating. It's terrifying. I don't like it, but I don't want to stop it. What's going on? _"Are... Uh... K-Kiku said you hurt your arm..."

The Brit closed his eyes again. "He's exaggerating," he whispered wearily. "It's nothing." He shifted, suppressing a wince. "Did you... H-how's your foot...?"

Alfred flushed slightly. _Of course he'd know, he helped me walk the entire way back..._ "Hurts, but it ain't too bad. Ain't even sprained. Just bruised," he murmured, entranced by Arthur's face for whatever reason. He wanted to touch his hair. His skin. His lips... which opened. What did he say? "What?"

"I said," the Englishman muttered, but was too worn out to glare. "It's 'isn't,' not 'ain't'." He offered a weak smile, but it came out more like a bitter grimace.

The younger man returned it. "Thanks for the correction," he grumbled sarcastically.

"It's my pleasure," Arthur returned, still smiling a grimace, which soon dissolved into an anguished frown. Why the hell did he have to look so damn sad...?

"You know," Alfred drawled slowly, trying to appear casual when in actuality he felt extremely nervous. "You definitely don't look your age when you're so sad. Actually," he mused, noticing the reddening cheeks of the man lying down. It was... cute. "You don't even look twenty three anyway." He tilted his head and gave a half smile, half smirk. "You could pass as my age, save for the weird way you talk."

To his surprise, the Brit's lips twitched slightly. "I don't know if that's supposed to be complimentary or insulting."

Alfred grinned. "Depends on how you take it," he said.

"I'll take it as a compliment."

"Surprising, what with your frequent bouts of anger. Temper tantrums," he decided cheekily, sticking his tongue out when Arthur batted his hand. To both of their astonishment, Alfred grabbed it before Arthur could pull back. Both blushed but neither mentioned it. Alfred didn't let go. Arthur squeezed back.

"Git," he murmured fondly, smiling a smile that met his green eyes and made them even more beautiful.

"Jerk," Alfred returned with a half-grin of his own, before it slipped away. He hesitated, blushing slightly. "Arthur...?"

The shorter blond's eyes fluttered open. "Hn?"

"Can... Can I sleep with you?" His blush deepened, but Arthur was nearly asleep by now. "I... had a nightmare, and..."

"Just go to sleep," Arthur begged quietly, pulling weakly on Alfred's hand. The American grinned sheepishly, chuckling silently at the older man's pathetic tug, but settled down beside him anyway. He subtly shuffled closer, glad Arthur was too tired to notice. But then, the Brit managed to somehow manoeuvred himself so that he was half on top of Alfred and half on the floor. The American blushed brightly but figured, hey, he'd be uncomfortable like that and he already had an injured arm because of him. He was just repaying the favour. At least, that was what he told himself as he pulled Arthur completely on top of him and wrapped his arms around the smaller man's back to pull him closer. _Just repayment_, he told himself fervently. _Just repayment_. But when Arthur smiled in his sleep and snuggled closer to him, he actually _knew _he was lying to himself now...

When he closed his own eyes, he dreamed of a Brit with beautiful green eyes.

**O-o-O-o-O**

Heracles didn't open his eyes when he heard someone quietly entering his tent. The other man may have had the stealth of a ninja, but he himself had the hearing of a bat. Although he would much rather compare himself to a cat. When he felt something warm hesitantly snuggle up to him from behind and wrap their arms around his waist, he realised his musings had momentarily distracted him. He didn't mind as much as he thought. Instead, he smiled and placed his own hands over Kiku's, raising one to kiss it tenderly and muffling a chuckle when he felt the Nihon-jin freeze behind him momentarily, before relaxing again.

"How's Arthur?" he murmured sleepily.

"Hmm," Kiku hummed thoughtfully. "I'm not entirely sure. Arthur-kun is strange when his feelings are so... so..."

"Prominent?"

"Mm," he agreed. "Arthur-kun knows how to deal with anger, and he can deal with other people when they're upset, but when he himself is so sad... he becomes very confused," Kiku explained, struggling to explain it in English terms. _How can I be struggling? I passed English in high school! Ah, but I did not take it in university... but even so...! Well, at least it is good enough to be understood... Anyway, I know many people who are terrible at Japanese, so it is not so bad... although I do wish people didn't abuse my language..._ he thought irritably but shook his head.

"Something wrong?" the brunet enquired, a tinge of worry in his tone.

"No, not at all. I was just thinking about my language," Kiku replied wistfully, feeling slightly melancholic that he didn't visit his homeland as much as he wished to. As if sensing the Japanese man's inward melancholy, Heracles decided to divert the topic.

"So, what happened?" the Greek enquired tiredly, feigning disinterest. Kiku was evidently pleased with the change of topic, shown by how he squeezed Heracles's hand ever so slightly. The Greek smiled languidly. He was actually rather intrigued by the romantic pull between Alfred and Arthur, as well as their sense of mystery and problematic equations... It was frustrating to watch them dance and skitter around each other because of their own worrisome pasts, however. He and Kiku even had their own troublesome pasts, but they were actually attempting to move on... A stab of guilt hit him and he sighed softly. He knew he wasn't being fair, especially judging by Kiku's extreme reluctance to divulge anything about his English friend...

"I don't know actually," the Japanese man admitted hesitantly. He didn't like not knowing things, but he didn't really want to get involved without Arthur's permission... "I just don't know."

Heracles sighed softly and turned over to embrace the Japanese man. Kiku froze for a moment when the brunet kissed his forehead, and the Greek pretended he didn't mind. "Oyasumi, Kiku," he whispered softly, hoping his pronounciation was accurate enough to understand. There was a short pause, and Heracles feared he had gone too far. But then...

"Oyasuminasai, Hera-kun," the dark haired man returned just as softly.

Heracles smiled.

**O-o-O-o-O**

"Good morning!" Meimei greeted cheerfully, looking as bright as ever as she beamed at everyone at the camp site. Michael sat beside her, looking his usual blasé self. Despite his blank face, there was a certain sparkle in his dark eyes that suggested otherwise. Naturally, Yao smiled back at his younger sister in response upon her greeting, but didn't go into overprotective brother mode. He knew Michael well enough. Although, he almost wished Meimei went into overprotective sister mode instead of fangirl mode when Yong Soo decided to start groping him. Yao sighed. He had been so well behaved up until now...

Kiku was up soon after. He usually woke before his siblings, but he had been so warm and comfortable in Heracles's arms that he didn't want to move. He tried to convince himself that he was just being polite, that he didn't want to wake up the Greek as it would be considered rude... and then he realised it was pointless to try. He sighed ruefully, staring down at his hands. He wasn't homophobic or anything of the sort. In fact, he was openly bisexual and had a stash of yaoi doujinshis and manga with him wherever he went. It was just that he and Yao hadn't got along very well in the past, and Yong Soo absolutely detested him. Michael accepted him fairly easily, having no trouble with most people as long as they weren't a hindrance. Meimei cared for him so much. She was the most loyal and devoted and had once gave him chocolates on Valentines day. Kiku had been a bit nervous, as girls only gave boys they... _liked_... chocolates on Valentines day. Needless to say, she had also given him a note. He still had it, in spite of how embarrassing and nerve-wracking it was to keep it. She'd basically admitted she cared for him more than a sibling should, but she wouldn't persue it. Thankfully, she'd seemed to grow past it and become more and more fond of Michael. He and Thuy had a good, solid relationship. Sometimes they had small tiffs, but they never really argued seriously. They got along very well due to their similar personalities, although Kiku found his Vietnamese sister to be a bit prudish, even more so than him. Niran, however, was the complete opposite of his fiancée. He was straight forward and a bit of a pervert, but he was so kind-hearted and oblivious sometimes. He cared for all of his siblings, in short, but... he just wasn't sure if they would all accept him for it. He was terrified to lose them. He just couldn't tell them...

"Good morning, Meimei-chan," Kiku replied monotonously, taking a seat beside her since Yong Soo was seated next to Yao. "Is anyone else awake?" he enquired after glancing around the camp site.

Meimei smiled brightly. "Thuy and Niran went to grab some more firewood, but they should be back soon. Gilbert is taking a walk with Antonio, Francis, Lovino, Ludwig, Feliciano and... um... oh! Matthew! And... Alfred and Arthur are still asleep. And Heracles... um..."

"He's still sleeping," he informed her before thinking. When his siblings all stared at him in surprise, he lowered his gaze, realising he had made a mistake. It was awkward, waiting in the awkward silence, his heart thumping rapidly. He was almost certain it would tear out of his flesh. But then, unexpectedly, the uncomfortable atmosphere was broken.

"Is that so?" Yao said with a small smile. "Perhaps you should wake him as we will be having breakfast soon. I will go and get Alfred and Arthur." He stood, brushing off imaginary dust on his trousers out of habit, and then strode over to the intended tent. Kiku watched the Chinese man's head disappear into the tent and pause for a moment. Yao turned aroud to face his siblings, a grin plastered onto his face, as he beckoned them over. "Kiku!" he hissed. "Do you have a camera?"

The Japanese man smirked back as he reached into the pocket of his trousers, brandishing a top of the line digital camera. He zipped over to his brother as his siblings jogged over to them. Kiku peeked into the tent, smirk softening into a small smile. The two were practically _clinging_ onto one another. Arthur was grasping onto the front of Alfred's shirt forcefully in spite of his unconscious state, and Alfred had his arms wrapped around the Brit's back. Their faces were so close that their noses were touching.

"Ahh..." Meimei whispered, beaming. "How adorable!" she squealed quietly.

Kiku blinked, slightly surprised by how enthusiastic the girl was about the two _men_'s relationship. Glancing at his brother's faces, they seemed to be fine with it too. In fact, Yao was grinning like a Cheshire cat. As if sensing the scrutiny, the older brother turned to Kiku expectantly. "Well, go on, Kiku! Take a photo," he urged in a hushed tone. The Japanese man flushed in embarrassment at being caught staring and nodded, fumbling with the camera as he zoomed in and got a good angle to get both of their peaceful faces in the frame, and snapped a picture.

**O-o-O-o-O**

"Wang Yao's company is a PLC," Toris said, green eyes fluttering across the paper before him as he skim read speedily. "As it's a PLC, you can purchase shares. You'll have to use a different name..." he warned.

The Russian smiled icily, leaning forward slightly. "I'm aware of that, Toris," he purred smoothly. The brunet fidgeted and nodded nervously.

"Y-yes, of course," he replied weakly, ignoring Natalia's piercing gaze he felt burning into his skill. Swallowing, he proceeded. "It started off as an LTD, but it soon began to turn downhill. As it was steadily losing any profit it had retained in its previous year, they soon were near collapse. However, they then tried to make it a PLC. They persuaded someone to become a stockholder and they put some money into their business. They soon broke even and were again making profit. To conclude, you can basically purchase some of their shares, Mr. Braginski," he murmured, shuffling papers worriedly, eyes flickering everywhere but towards him.

"To you believe that would be best?" Ivan enquired silkily, voice deceptively sweet. It made Toris feel sick.

"I-I believe so," he said softly, eyes still downcast. "Despite being supported by a few stockholders - most of which being friends and family - they still aren't making a large profit, and most of the stockholders don't have vast amounts of shares. If you bought, say... twenty five per cent of the company... you'd be equal to Wang Yao. If you bought any more than that, you'd be the main owner." He finally looked up. "You would have control over the business and its workers, including..."

"My old friend, Mr. Kirkland," Ivan finished with a cat-like grin. Toris gave a stiff nod of confirmation. Violet eyes flashed, making Toris and Yaketerina freeze, whilst Natalia just eyed him curiously, awaiting any orders complacently. "Yes, this is an... interesting... turn of events." He chuckled happily, looking positively gleeful. "Toris, would you please retrieve Eduard and Raivis for me?" It wasn't a request. "I'm going to tell you all our plans. I want all of us to be here for it!" he declared, beaming brightly. "This will be very fun!" he said cheerily, although his eyes darkened considerably and his smile transformed into a malicious smirk. "We'll soon be rid of that interfering brat..."

**O-o-O-o-O**

"Tired?" Francis enquired, smirking lightly at the Brit seated next to him who kept rubbing his eyes and sniffling.

"Hay fever," Arthur replied moodily, and promptly let out a sneeze. It sounded more like a squeak since he tried to muffle it. Alfred snorted to his right, and Arthur scowled irritably. The American grinned apologetically.

"Sorry," he said, rubbing his neck sheepishly. "If it's any consolation," he said off-handedly, looking away with flushed cheeks. Arthur cocked his head, frowning. "You look kinda cute when you rub your eyes. Sorta. I guess. Not really," he said quickly, cheeks darkening. He felt slightly reassurred when the Brit blushed an even darker shade than he did.

"Same goes for you when you snore," Arthur returned, lips twitching and eyes twinkling. If he didn't look so cute, Alfred would've gotten angry. As it was... "O-oiiw, what'wre you dowing, idiot? Let go of mah fasche!" he whined.

"You were smiling," the taller man declared triumphantly, grinning toothily. "It... suits you," he admitted in a softer tone, looking away almost shyly, face contorted into a frown.

Arthur blinked in shock, staring at the younger man for a moment, before carefully placing one of his hands over the American's, hovering above the appendage reluctantly, not wanting to annoy him. But, deciding to be a bit more forward for once, he lightly touched Alfred's tanned hand with his paler one. Alfred froze for a moment, eyes widening, before he very slowly relaxed a bit and offered a nervous smile. He glanced around at the others, but they were all mingling as if it was all normal. He was a bit confused that they were so easily accepting this... weird... behaviour. But he was glad. He offered Arthur a weak, but more reassurred grin, but it melted into a fierce blush when the Brit replied shyly, "It suits you too."

Francis watched the exchange with a strange mixture of amusement, fondness, and envy. His eyes strayed over to the Canadian, but he appeared oblivious towards the moment that Alfred and Arthur had just had, and was engaged in an animated conversation with his stupid, irritating polar bear plush. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he forced himself to look away. It just... hurt.

Standing, he moved away to speak with Yao. He didn't notice Matthew watching him sadly. Alfred and Arthur did.

**O-o-O-o-O**

The walk back to the onsen was fairly tense. Only Feliciano and Antonio didn't seem to notice the gravity of the situation. Ludwig was walking behind everyone with Feliciano since the Italian kept getting distracted, and Antonio and Romano were close to them, but also just behind Gilbert and Francis, who both seemed to be in very sombre, dark moods. Antonio wasn't totally ignorant though. Ludwig noticed that the seemingly carefree Spaniard kept sending his friends concerned glances. The German shook his head. _I'm getting a migraine..._ he thought as worries seemed to clog his mind.

Matthew was walking with Alfred and Arthur, but they weren't speaking either. A few times, one of them commented on something, and the others offered pleasantries or jokes (courtesy of Alfred), but something was obviously off. Kiku was speaking quietly with Yao. About what, no one else knew. They had even asked Yong Soo and Heracles to leave them for a while to speak. They'd looked hurt for a moment before Yong Soo dismissed himself freely, and then went to pester Niran and Thuy. Heracles just went to hang back with Antonio. Meimei was giggling at Yong Soo's display, but she was honestly wondering what Kiku and Yao were discussing so intimately, and why even Yong Soo and Heracles weren't permitted to listen. Michael didn't seem to mind though, so she just preoccupied herself with him.

"I'll be right back," Arthur suddenly said, offering a small, hesitant smile. He then slowed his pace, waiting for Francis and Gilbert to catch up. As soon as the Brit had disappeared from hearing range, Alfred removed his hands from his pockets and lost his feigned careless stance, rounding on Matthew.

"Okay, so, what's going on?" he demanded immediately.

Matthew blinked, looking utterly befuddled and perplexed. "Uh... what...?" he asked slowly.

Alfred huffed and folded his arms, scowling. "You..." He trailed off, looking down, looking up, to the side, down again, and finally back at Matthew. "You like Francis, right? And he's obviously madly in love with you or something, so why the hell aren't you doing anything about it?" he asked stiffly. He wasn't used to these sorts of conversations. His brother had never actually dated anyone, so they never really discussed dating or relationships. To top it off, it was a _man_ they were talking about...

Alfred halted his train of thought and steeled himself. _Stop it. Stop thinking that! It isn't fair on your brother! Like Arthur said, these ain't my _own_ thoughts. What do _I _want...? Well... I want Mattie to be happy... so..._

"I-I'm... straight," Matthew protested quietly, eyes trained on the ground determinedly.

Feeling an unexpected wave of irritation, Alfred ground out through clenched teeth, "No, you aren't." Matthew glanced nervously at him and he forced himself to calm down so that his brother wouldn't be scared off. Alfred heaved a heavy sigh and ran a hand through his hair, posture tense but defeated. Matthew found it quite daunting, and he felt guilty. He didn't want to disappoint his brother. He thought he'd hidden it all quite well, but... He sighed. _I'm no good at anything. I can't even make my brother happy_, he thought miserably, ducking his head when he felt his eyes sting. _I've never made anyone happy, and it looks like I'll never be able to do that... _"Hey," Alfred said softly, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder. Matthew blinked away the tears gathering in his eyes and looked up at his brother worriedly. "Don't be sad. I'm cool with it, so long as you're happy. So, if... if it's what you want," he mumbled, eyes flickering away and back again. _It's for Matthew. Do this for your brother_. "Then I'm happy for you." Although it sounded slightly forced, it just seemed to earnest. He really did want his little brother to be happy. He was the only family he had left, and he cared deeply for him. _I won't let him be sad, especially because of me._

He was knocked out of his thoughts when he felt arms wrap themselves around him tightly. He staggered backwards, surprised by the sudden hug of doom, and for a moment he felt unbelievably awkward. That was, until he remembered when he used to hug his brother and mum like that. Slowly, he let himself relax, and he hugged him back.

"I love you, little bro."

**O-o-O-o-O**

"Ludwig," Feliciano whined, "You've been on your phone all day. Why are you so distracted?" he asked sulkily. If the blond had spared any time to look at his lover, he would have seen the true concern and nervousness in his bright brown eyes. As it was, his bright blue eyes were set firmly on his phone.

"Sorry, Feliciano," he muttered quietly. "I'm just... expecting an important phone call," he explained.

The brunet hummed, tilting his head. "But you'll hear it if it goes, so pay attention to me!"

"This is important, Feliciano," Ludwig replied sternly, only sparing a moment to glare at the smaller man.

The Italian was struck by the coldness in his tone. Sure, the German was often strict, but he didn't usually snap at him like that... "I'm sorry," he mumbled softly, ducking his head. No one else noticed the exchange.

A bit further ahead, Francis and Gilbert were forced to a halt when they saw two feet planted firmly on the ground before them. Gilbert was the first to raise his gaze and he raised a brow at Arthur. "Basking in my awesome?" he asked.

Arthur folded his arms tightly across his chest and, despite being shorter than the other two, managed to glare them down. "Look," he said shortly, eyes blazing. "I don't know what's going on, and I'm not going to pretend to understand. I just want you two to stop dragging yourselves down because you have _friends_ who _care_ about you. Antonio's obviously exceedingly concerned, but I don't think he wants to approach you because he's too nice about everything and doesn't want to upset you further. Matthew's upset and whilst I have no clue what it's about, I assume it's something to do with _you_," He poked Francis in the chest harshly, and the French man blinked slowly, as if coming back to the world. "Since he keeps looking at you and sighing every few minutes. So, pick up your acts and start talking to your friends!" _Hypocrite_, his mind whispered. He ignored it. Gilbert didn't.

"Look who's talking," he hissed, crimson eyes glinting as he glared furiously. He clenched his fists. "_You_ of all people have _no_ right to be telling us this!" he shouted, pointing at the Brit before clenching his fist again, breathing raggedly.

The Brit masked any hurt he felt behind a fierce glare. _I know you're right_, he thought ruefully, but just maintained a steadfast expression. "Yeah," he agreed, "I don't. However, you do know I'm right. You're reliving the past, right?" He ignored Gilbert's horrorfied expression and pressed on, squashing any guilt he felt building up. "If... If you're going through that," he said, voice much more softer now. "Then you'll need to pull your friends closer, not push them away." He glanced at Francis, a sardonic smirk on his face. "And you, you idiot," he murmured fondly, lightly slapping the older man's cheek. "Stop trying to hold yourself back. It's obviously not unrequited. If you feel that way, just go for it." He smiled. "You may be a complete git, but you're my friend. I want you to be happy, you moronic twit." Not giving the two shocked men time to respond - not that they could - Arthur was already waving Antonio over. "You three just... well, actually, no, _don't_ do what you do best. Just... have fun, but don't assault anyone."

Antonio chuckled softly and put his arms around his friends. "Gracias, Arthur. Maybe you aren't so bad after all."

Arthur grinned back haughtily. "I am," he promised.

**O-o-O-o-O**

_**Axis Powers Hetalia **_**belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

**I went out today to take photos for my art work. I took photos for responses to Sam Taylor-Wood and Annette Messager. For Jennifer Collier, I'm making a dress out of paper and such. Art GCSEs take so much effort!**

**And I'm currently quite distracted by **_**Titanic**_**... I feel my masculine pride being dented infinitely. However, I'm proud to say I've never cried during a film, unlike everyone I know. They say I'm heartless. Pfft. If I were heartless, I wouldn't be alive. YOU HAVE NOT BUILT A STRONG AND TRUE SHIP. YOU SHOULD'VE GAVE IT MORE BLOODY LIFE BOATS, YOU BLEEDING WANKER. UGH.**

**-**_**Cough**_**- In any case... er, I was going to ask you guys something regarding the plot, but then I decided on what's going to happen. So, it's cool. XD You may detest me for a while though. XD;**

**PLC = Public Limited Company. These companies sell shares of their business on the stock exchange. Absolutely anyone can purchase shares of these companies. Examples: Tesco, Marks and Spencers.**

**LTD = Private Limited Company. These companies sell shares of their business only to family members or friends. Only people who are close to the owners can buy shares.**

**Break even = A term which means to stop losing money. When a business breaks even, it means it no longer loses money, but neither is it gaining any money. Most businesses aim to break even within two years or so. Breaking even is a good thing, because after it you make a profit. Marks and Spencers are successful as you know, but they once had a downfall during the 90s and were steadily falling into debt. They were on the verge of collapse. They changed their aims and objectives and instead of aiming for a profit, they aimed to break even. They altered their store's image because they were previously only viewed as a small market with a specific target audience. This company is an excellent example of all types of businesses because it started off as a sole trader, became a partnership, followed by an LTD, then finally a PLC, which it is now. So, you can buy shares if you want! :D**

**Lecture finished. Class dismissed!**

**Thank you for reading!**


	26. Me ni wa me!

**:) **_**THANK YOU!**___**:)  
**_**  
**_**Hey, guys! Just a quick message from me to you to say  
**_**thank you**_**  
for sticking with this story, trying to help me improve it, reviewing, alerting, favouriting, etcetera.  
It really means a lot that so many awesome people continued reding **_**Tengoku ni Ochiru**_** thus far. I know there are loads of fantastic writers out there, so I know it's difficult to compete. In spite of that, there are lots of you who read my story anyway, so **_**thank you all so much**_**!  
I'm writing a couple of extras (-**_**cough**_**- three -**_**cough**_**-) and drawing some stuff to thank everyone. :) I might not upload some of the drawings because they aren't that good. XD We'll see though. And I'm thinking of possibly recording a thank you message on YouTube but I don't want to be seen and I hate my voice. -**_**Blank stare**_**- So. I don't know. XD  
But I digress!  
Once again, everyone, thank you for sticking with **_**Tengoku ni Ochiru**_** and supporting me thus far!**

_**Arigatou gozaimasu**_**;  
**_**Kam ouen**_**;**_**  
Merci beaucoup**_**;**_**  
Muchas graicias**_**;  
**_**Shukran gazillan**_**;**

_**Do jeh**_**;**

_**Tak**_**;**_**  
Danke**_**;  
**_**Efkaristo poly**_**;  
**_**Mahalo**_**;  
**_**Terima kasih banjak**_**;  
**_**Grazie**_**;  
**_**Köszönöm**_**;  
**_**Terima kasih**_**;  
**_**Dziekuje**_**;  
**_**Spasibo balshoye**_**;  
**_**Dyakuyu**_**;  
**_**Khop khun mak**_**;  
**_**Tesekkurler**_**;  
**_**Diloch yn fawr**_** . . .**_****_

**:D ****T**_**h**_a_**n**_**k**_** y**_o_u_**!**** :D**

I've decided I'm dedicating this story to my family.  
I don't normally dedicate things to people,  
because so many people do that and it seems so cliché and unemotional,  
just something they do on a whim.  
But my family have stuck by each other,  
and everyone's helped each other in some way.  
This is my first successful story, honestly,  
and my first big step to actually getting somewhere in life regarding writing.  
But the main thing behind my writing, behind my life, the ones pushing me into persuing my love of writing are my family.  
I know sometimes families argue and have disagreements, and I'm definitely not saying my family is anywhere near perfect. We may be torn apart and fractured, but we'll never be broken, because we all have each other to support us and get us back on our feet.  
My grandmother's going through something right now, and I don't see her often due to school and her hospital visits. She's always been stronger than any of us, like the root of a plant or a stem that helps us all grow and holds down the foundation of the family. She's the most amazing grandmother, and the most magnificent person I've ever known, and she's been a huge inspiration in my life and in my writing. She's just the most wonderful, amiable and excellent person I know.  
Sorry if this sounds really weird or corny,  
but this story's for my family.

O-o-O-o-O

"So, how's about we all get a drink? I think we've earned it," Niran declared, a bright grin on his face.

"Inconsiderate bastard," Thuy said beside him, scowling and elbowing him in the stomach. He let out a muffled '_oof_' but otherwise appeared to still be resonating sunshine. The Vietnamese girl made a show of rolling her eyes at him before turning to Alfred. "Your ankle, Ông..." **(1)** she said with an icy polite tone that made the American want to shiver. Wow, she didn't seem too friendly...

"It's cool," he returned in an equal tone, not liking the girl's attitude one bit. "I'll deal with it on my own. I got first aid trainin' since I wanna be a cop," he informed her with a proud grin. She didn't seem impressed. At all. Although, when he spared a glance over at the blond Brit, he noticed his emerald eyes were sparkling in curiosity. Alfred glanced away before anything weird could happen.

"I'll help you with it," a heavily English accented voice suddenly piped up, and he turned back to the older man again, blinking at him in confusion. The blond folded his arms and smirked lightly. "You may be trained in first aid, but I know it's not exactly an easy task by yourself," he drawled.

_And how would you know that? _Alfred was tempted to ask, but instead just sent the smaller man a half-smile and nodded. "Thanks," he said.

"In any case," Gilbert suddenly muttered, "I think I need a drink. So, I'll meet you all at the bar if you're going." He raised a hand in a farewell gesture before sticking it in his pocket and walking off. Feliciano glanced at him worriedly, and then turned back to his German lover, who hadn't seemed to notice his brother's departure. The brunet frowned at Ludwig, but didn't want to speak up in case he got angry again. Instead, he quietly dismissed himself and followed the albino, offering the disenchanted man a bashful smile, which was tentatively returned.

Lovino, having witnessed the strange event, glared at Ludwig. He turned fully towards him and hissed, "Listen, you bastard..." He felt Antonio's arm on his shoulder, although the Spaniard did nothing to halt his speech. "I care for my brother, and seeing you act like this... I don't approve of your relationship!" he spat out poisonously, although his voice was still lowered so that the others wouldn't overhear their conversation and grow suspicious. Icy blue eyes met his and, although he felt a bit vulnerable under the penetrating stare, he scowled back defiantly. _This is for your brother_, he reminded himself, remaining steadfast. "You told me you cared about Feliciano. You promised to look after him. Is brushing him off and ignoring him _looking after_ him?" He clenched his fists, trying to control his suddenly-irregular breathing. The hand on his shoulder tightened.

The blond glowered back, eyes flickering away guiltily for a moment before he sighed and scowled at the Italian again. "Yes," he answered monotonously. "It _is_ looking after him." He closed his eyes and pursed his lips, letting out a stressed breath, before opening the piercing pale eyes and casting Lovino one last warning glare. "Don't try to interfere, Lovino," he advised calmly. "This is for... everyone's own good." With that, the German turned away and marched down the hall to his bedroom, in the opposite direction Feliciano had gone, leaving Lovino wondering why he had glanced at Arthur when he paused in his sentence.

"I'll see you at the pub - er, bar, then," Arthur amended with a grimace, but patted the French man on the arm. "Go have fun with Matthew," he added with a small, encouraging smile.

Francis's eyes widened briefly before he shook his head and smiled back. "For one so undignified and _British_," he said, "You know me very well, mon cher." He stepped forward and paused, awaiting the inevitable rant and punch in the face. When it never came, he moved to wrap an arm around the Brit and hug him, but Arthur just grabbed his shoulders and smirked at him.

"I'm _English_, actually," **(2)** he corrected with a cocksure grin, making Francis chuckle. But then he pulled the older man forward and hugged him. He felt stiff and tense, but Arthur never was much for physical contact. Even when they were together, he insisted that they never go past kissing, and even that was a bit unstable. When Francis had approached him most times, Arthur had usually jerked away violently and shouted at him for getting too close. _Ah_, he thought, _That's Arthur for you. You have your work cut out for you, Alfred_. Arthur soon pulled away, although the hug lasted a moment longer than necessary, and the Brit's cheeks were tinged pink, but he was still grinning a pirate-like grin. "Now, go over there and talk to him already," he chastised, shoving the French man.

Francis lifted a hand and, after sending the Englishman a rude comment regarding his unkempt eyebrows, strode over to Matthew. Smiling in a polite yet seductive way, he moved to grasp Matthew's hand, but his fingertips only ghosted above the pale skin hesitantly. Lavender eyes darted towards azure ones, and Alfred just sent his younger brother a reassurring half-smile before stepping away. Matthew flushed lightly and slowly, very slowly, grabbed Francis's hand. The French man felt a sudden burst of elation despite the subservient nature of the man he loved, and raised a hand to kiss. He smiled when the boy's face reddened even further. _So sweet_, he thought fondly. "Shall we?" he asked courteously with a wink. Matthew just ducked his head to hide his blush and gave a small nod, squeezing the older man's hand. They turned to walk out of the foyer, and Francis briefly turned back to send a smile to Alfred. The American almost hesitated, but then berated himself. He smiled back. When Francis and his brother had disappeared, he turned to see Arthur watching them also. He moved to approach him (after gazing at the man's smile slightly longer than necessary), but his arm was grabbed by Yong Soo. He blinked at the Korean in bewilderment.

"Uh... Can I help you?" he asked, confused.

"Kirkland sŏn-saeng-nim **(3)** is busy. So, let's go get a drink, da-ze!" the chirpy Korean boy declared boldly, although his dark brown eyes didn't seem to be as happy as his smile.

"Busy...?" Alfred asked, blinking. He glanced back, seeing Kiku and Yao approaching him. They muttered something, and Arthur's eyes widened, before he seemed to grow sober and he nodded solemnly. Yao mumbled something, and then they began walking away. _What... was that...? _he wondered, frowning.

"Yeah, yeah! So, come on, let's go get a drink," the Asian repeated, voice ever so slightly more threatening. It was hardly noticeable and, not being one to read the atmosphere, Alfred didn't notice. He opened his mouth to protest, but Niran seemed to pop out of nowhere.

"Khor toat!" **(4)** he apologised, eyes closed in a smiling fashion. "But my siblings and your friend are discussing something important regarding business. Please, would you escort my brother to the bar?" It was phrased as a question, but Alfred could now tell it was more of an order. Frowning, he unwillingly backed down, and slowly began following the Korean towards the bar with Meimei and Michael following close after, hands clasped tightly together.

Niran's smile collapsed when he left. Thuy walked up to stand beside him, staring down the now-empty hallway. Her face was impassive. "We are in trouble, aren't we?" she whispered.

Closing his eyes again, Niran simply nodded.

**O-o-O-o-O**

"Can't we convert back to being an LTD?" Arthur muttered softly as he eyed the figures. He knew the answer to his question already. Without the input of outsiders, they didn't have enough fixed profit to keep their business going. With the recession, banks were highly unlikely to grant them loans or overdrafts. Although overdrafts were not an option either. They would definitely not be able to pay back money within such a short time.

Kiku smiled sympathetically. "You look like you already know the answer, Arthur-kun," he replied gently, not wanting to offend or upset his temperamental friend.

"But..." the blond murmured, brows creased together. "But as it is, we could easily be..." He glanced at Yao unwaveringly. "You have twenty five percent of the shares, Yao. That's a lot in terms of Tesco or McDonald's. Blimey, you'd own all of them worldwide. But our company is not as famous. If someone had enough money, they could easily overtake--"

"Don't you think I am aware of this, _xian cheng_?" the Chinese man snapped irritably, in no mood for having things that he already knew explained to him.

His younger brother frowned. "Aniki," he berated sharply. "Arthur-kun is only trying to help."

Yao let out a harsh breath of air and nodded, movements still stiff and eyes still hard. "Yes," he murmured smoothly in return, eyes sliding over to the solitary blond occupant of the room. "Do you have any suggestions?" he asked. He and Arthur weren't the best of friends. Arthur had a few shares in the company, just as many as Kiku, being thirteen point five percent each. That was the only reason the Brit was in the meeting, accompanied with the fact that he took business and enterprise in college **(5)** and was Kiku's close friend. But Yao and Arthur had a rocky past involving illegal substances at one point. Arthur was still an employee at his company because he was Kiku's friend and a good therapist, plain and simple.

Luminous green eyes scanned the paper deftly for a long moment and he finally raised them. Staring his boss down determinedly, he said, "We pray."

**O-o-O-o-O**

"You and aniki still seem... ano..." Kiku murmured softly, struggling to find the right word to use politely.

Arthur smiled at him, but it looked more like a grimace. "Yes," he agreed. _I know it's my fault_, he thought, but didn't voice it in fear of sounding self-loathing. "Well, I shouldn't have really... er... well, you know," he muttered evasively, eyes darting away.

Kiku tilted his head, blinking curiously and yet keeping his face impassive. The Brit wondered how his friend managed that. "You no longer take those drugs, do you?" he asked bluntly.

The Englishman blanched, eyes wide and hurt. "N-no! Kiku, I-I'm clean now! I--"

"I thought not," the shorter man said, smiling in reassurrance. "I just wanted to be sure." Arthur relaxed slightly, but still seemed a bit ruffled. "And I also know... it wasn't your fault," he added, glancing at his friend to see his reaction. As anticipated, green eyes darkened and the man straightened. _Defensive mechanism_, Kiku noted. "You don't suffer from withdrawal symptoms anymore, do you?"

The blond shook his head stiffly. "I stopped taking them when I was eighteen. After I..."

"Was hospitalised," Kiku finished when his friend trailed off. He saw Arthur nod once. "And what about sleeping pills? Anti--"

"Kiku," Arthur whispered hoarsely, pleadingly. "Let's not talk about it. Please."

The Japanese man hesitated briefly, frowning in disapproval at his friend, before sighing and nodding. "Arthur-kun," he said gently, "You will have to talk about it all some day. What about Alfred-san? You can only help him so much when you yourself aren't completely content."

The Brit smiled bitterly, closing his eyes and letting out a laugh that sounded more like a sigh. "No one is completely content," he murmured softly. There was a small, silent pause, before he said, "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I can't think of a solution for the company," he said regretfully, looking down at the floor in shame.

Kiku smiled. "It's all right," he soothed. "You have been a great asset to the company. In any case, I'm not entirely certain why my brother is so concerned about our company." The relaxed expression dissolved and morphed into a more troubled one. "He said himself that our company is not entirely popular, and so I do not understand why he suddenly brought this up..."

Arthur licked his dry lips, something coming to mind, but he dismissed it hastily. It couldn't be. No way. _Impossible_. "Well, anyway," he said breathlessly, effetively capturing Kiku's attention once more. "Have Michael and Meimei set a date yet?" he enquired, wanting to change the subject.

The Japanese man recognised the evasive tactic but went along with it. "Not yet," he replied. "Although they are both very excited about it. Michael may not seem the type, but..."

"I know," the blond said, smiling softly. "I used to help you babysit when Yao was out when we were in high school." He grimaced and shook his head. "Michael always tried to scare me with fireworks! How did he even get those...?"

Kiku chuckled. "He always succeeded, hm?" he replied, blatantly not answering his friend's question. His laughter increased when the Brit pouted. He patted the man's arm. "Count yourself lucky you didn't look after Yong Soo," he said, making a face. "He's so... annoying. Perverted. Despicable."

Arthur smiled sheepishly, not sure how to respond. "Ah... He can't be that bad..."

"He is," Kiku answered without hesitation, face blank.

The blond blinked. "O-oh." He really didn't know how to act when his friend went into _Black_ mode. (After watching _Fruits Basket_ with Kiku once--during high school, when Kiku was ill and Arthur went over to check on him--he realised that his friend had many similarities to Hatsuharu, what with the way his moods fluctuate between friendly yet impassive and then dark and yet... somewhat impassive.)

"Anyway, Arthur-kun," Kiku said, snapping out of _Black _mode. The blond glanced at him curiously. "I was wondering if you would perhaps accompany me in shopping later? I thought I'd bring Heracles-kun along too, and you may bring Alfred-san." He smiled too innocently.

_It's suspicious. He only smiles like that when he wants something. Like when he made you cosplay as that bloody Ooo-cheee-haa brat. Whatever his name was. I didn't like it. And Oo-ree-yoo! Why were those bloody redheaded cosplayers approaching me so often? It was creepy... Then there was another one. He wasn't so bad. Kamijou... Hero-key? He seemed normal enough. At least, like me. But I felt so violated at that convention... Say no! Decline! _"Sure," he said smoothly, smiling cordially. _Have you learnt nothing?_ his mind screamed as he smiled on the outside.

"Sugoi!" Kiku declared happily. "Then, after you tend to Alfred-san, I will meet you outside."

"Okay," Arthur agreed easily, following his friend into the bar area. He ignored his French friend belting strange lyrics to an embarrassed Canadian, and strode over to Alfred.

"Eh? Oh! Arthur! Want a drink? Maybe a coke, 'cause you're a real lightweight, and--"

"Come with me," the Brit said, interrupting him by tugging on his sleeve. "I'm going to tend to your foot and then we're going out." Alfred blinked wide eyes and Arthur realised what he said. He blushed darkly and glared at his shoes. "I-I mean we're going out shopping. W-with Kiku and Heracles. Not as a date. Just... um... ah..." _How embarrassing!_ he thought ruefully, clenching his eyes shut as his face burned furiously. But he blinked his bottle-green eyes open when he felt a hand on his head, and glanced through his fringe to see a semi-shy, semi-amused grin on the American's face.

"Sure, Art," he said quietly, leaning down slightly and whispering, "Then, it's a date."

Arthur's eyes widened and he felt himself grow redder. _I... I just said that it's not! _"Y-you controversial idi--"

"Come on then, hurry up! I'm the one with an injured ankle and yet you're behind! Jeez, maybe Francis was right. You _are_ old..."

"_Fuck off_!"

**O-o-O-o-O**

"So, you want to be a police officer then?" came the inevitable question that Alfred had expected since he had first said it.

"Yup," he answered easily, watching the Brit gather some first aid items. "And I bet you wanna know why, right?" he added with a smug smirk. _People are easy to read_, he thought.

Much to his chagrin and surprise, the Briton just shrugged half-heartedly. "It's up to you if you want to tell me or not," he replied offhandedly, seeming as if he just wanted to prove Alfred wrong. "I worked in a police station for work experience in high school," Arthur offered.

The American's eyes widened slightly. "Ehh?" he questioned in awe. "You did? Really?" he asked excitedly.

Arthur chuckled softly as he bent down on his knees in front of Alfred, pausing for a moment and subtly rolling his shoulder, before he grabbed the American's foot. "Are you ticklish?" he enquired.

The younger man squirmed slightly, lips twitching. "Kinda," he replied sheepishly. "And your hands are cold."

Arthur flushed slightly and retrated his hands before glowering. "Yes, well, you'll just have to put up with it. He hummed thoughtfully. "If you want, you can put it up. It might tickle less..."

"It's okay," Alfred replied airily. "I'll just get revenge later." He grinned an irksome, _arrogant_, unfortunately adorable grin that made a strange fizzling sensation erupt within Arthur's stomach and send shivers up his spine.

"Twat," he returned snappishly, fighting off a blush. "Heroes shouldn't want revenge," he berated, raising a brow at Alfred, who flushed in shame before grinning back again.

"Fine. _Justice_, then," he said, eyes sparkling.

Despite himself, Arthur's lips twitched. "There's a difference?" he muttered thoughtfully. He knew there was a difference in the definitions, but modern society persuaded him that "justice" and "revenge" were just two words that meant the same thing: Cruel punishment. He was just glad that capital punishment had been abolished in England...

Alfred's eyes widened before he frowned. "Of course!" he insisted vehemently, grabbing Arthur's busy hands. Shocked and flustered, the Brit just stared at the passionate man. "Justice means ta... It's like equal exchange. **(6) **But you don't go no further than what ya have ta. Ya jus'... ya jus'... It's like the teaching in the _Bible_. _An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth_," he quoted.

"The _Bible_ is so controversial," Arthur snorted.

The American grinned back toothily. "Well, so's everythin' else. Like my country," he said.

The Brit blinked, but didn't really want to get into an argument or debate over countries and their ethics and laws. Instead, he hummed thoughtfully and unravelled some bandages before murmuring soothingly, "The vast majority of the entire world's population are controversial. It's the people, not the country." He offered a small smile, at which Alfred blinked in surprise before giving a slow nod.

"I guess you're right," he replied. "Yeah. You are. But," he said, and Arthur raised his fluffy caterpillar eyebrows... _Shut up, brain_, Alfred thought. _Although they are indeed fluffy... No! Shut up!_ "People are influenced by the habitual mistakes and stereotpyes of their homeland."

Arthur's lips twitched again, amused for some reason Alfred could just not comprehend. He would never get British humour. Ever. "Most mistakes of which were made by human rulers, and the stereotypes also influenced by typical human behaviour."

Alfred opened his mouth to reply, when he finally noticed that Arthur was already tying the bandages on his foot. His eyes widened. Was Arthur trying to distract him so it wouldn't hurt...? _Aww... Arthur..._ He smiled softly. "Well," he mused, "Ya know what kinda stereotypes I like?" The Brit regarded him with curious eyes, making Alfred want to grin. He looked kind of cute when he looked so clueless. After inwardly slapping himself, he forced himself on, ignoring the voice in his head that told him he was being sick, he said, "English ones." He grinned when Arthur's eyes widened even more. "Punks; stick-up-the-arse, high-and-mighty posh people; scene kids..."

"Y-you can't possibly like our 'chavs' though," Arthur returned, smiling properly now, obviously amused.

"Heh," Alfred said, returning the smile. "Not as bad as American gangsters."

"No, I believe chavs are worse," Arthur replied with a small chuckle. "Although, in spite of their irritating, 'yo-wassup-was-hangin-bruv-we-cool-dude' attitudes, I believe labels are for soup cans."

Alfred just stared, eyes big and wider than normal. Arthur squirmed uncomfortably and scowled defensively, but looking mildly nervous as if he had done something wrong. "Dude," the American finally said. "It's so weird hearing you talk like that."

The Brit flushed darkly and his eyes fluttered down. "Wh-whatever," he stuttered, embarrassed. He shakily finished tying the bandages, cutting the end off so it wouldn't get caught, and then he tossed the remaining bandages into the kit. "Done," he said, shutting and grabbing the first aid kit. He went to take it back to the cupboard, but his free wrist was grasped before he could take a step. Blinking in confusion, he turned back to Alfred expectantly, raising his (big) eyebrows.

Alfred stared up at the green-eyed man for a prolonged moment, feeling sparks of electricity sizzling through his hand as he touched the Brit's cold, pale skin... He blushed and averted his gaze, letting go quickly, but hesitantly. "Sorry," he said stiffly, before adding sheepishly so as not to sound suspicious, "I'm kinda hungry."

Arthur rolled his emerald eyes in response and stuffed the first aid kit back in the cupboard, but didn't turn around. "Well, good. Because. Uh. Um. Er. Um. Well, I--"

"Spit it out, old man," Alfred coaxed with a cheeky grin. He could see Arthur's ears turning pink.

The Englishman tensed and folded his arms, glaring at the shoji door in front of him. "Sh-shut up, brat. Just... I was... I was wondering, if... maybe... if you might want... if you..." _Bluuuuush_. He let out an undignified _sound_ before yanking the cupboard open and chucking Alfred's jacket at him. "We're going out so hurry the fuck up and don't ask questions okay?" he shouted at once, face deep red. "I'm going to change, so-so get out of the room for a minute!"

Too nervous to do anything else, the American nodded obligingly and slipped on his bomber jacket, briefly wondering why Arthur knew where it was in the first place...

**O-o-O-o-O**

"Do you _ever_ wear _anything _apart from old man clothes?" Alfred enquired in exasperation, analysing Arthur's attire, which consisted of a black button-up jacket that reached his knees and plain black trousers... wait, hold up. Was he wearing _skinny jeans_? And... _Converse sneakers_? What.

Arthur just flipped him off and then walked onwards briskly, acting as if he were the perfect gentlemen aside from the fact that he had just _flipped him off_ like a teenager or a delinquent. Arthur called out a greeting, and Alfred glanced up too see Kiku, Meimei, Michael and Heracles standing (or sleeping) in wait. The American felt himself twitch and immediately took a long stride to walk right beside Arthur. _Stay with _me_, damn it..._

He heard Kiku's sister giggle whilst looking at him and he flushed. Surely, she didn't know what he had just thought...

"We are going into town, just for a nice walk and to take in the sights. Oh, and I must purchase some charms to ward off angry spirits," Kiku said blissfully, as if he didn't sound insane and as if Alfred hadn't paled significantly.

"A-angry s-s-spirits?" he whispered frightfully, swallowing thickly.

"It's okay, Alfred-san," Kiku soothed, smiling gently. "Arthur-kun is magic. He will keep you safe."

Alfred and Arthur both blushed and averted their gazes, but... "Yes," Arthur murmured shyly. "I'll protect you..."

Meimei handed her brother a tissue.

**O-o-O-o-O**

Beautiful bright lights, all sorts of neon colours, and all sorts of shapes, were visible. All were accentuated greatly by the ceasing sunset. The sky was a dark orange, growing darker still, and it made the neon lights look all the more brighter. Heracles thought they were even more wonderful when reflected in Kiku's wonderful dark eyes.

It was loud outside. Music was blasting out of karaoke bars, drunkards belting out lyrics and laughing insanely; cosplayers were giggling and snapping photos; couples were dancing together and gathering around a music group on the street. It was a slow song they were playing now, as the afternoon drew to a close and the evening and night came to be. The numerous wind chimes beind sold on markets swayed in the gentle breeze, giving the slow song a more lighthearted sound.

Michael turned to Meimei, one hand behind his back and one hand outstretched as he bowed slightly. The girl flushed slightly and giggled, gladly accepting his hand. She beamed at Kiku and wave as they entered the crowd of people and began swaying to the music.

Alfred and Arthur both noticed the awe and want in each others eyes, but neither of them had the courage to act upon it. So, they watched, and they pretended not to care.

**O-o-O-o-O**

_**Axis Powers Hetalia **_**belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

I was going to write the entire night out in this chapter, but blehhh. I really don't feel like it right now. Sorry, guys. Someone kinda just blew any good mood I had into the air. I wrote most of this chapter before my cliché family speech at the top, and only wrote the last four paragraphs after it. So, you can see from that that I kind of thought, '_**Fuck it**_**.' XD**

I've written a fem!USxfem!UK oneshot and should be uploading tomorrow or Friday if you're interested. It's one of the few fics I wrote as a thank you for the 200 reviews. So far I've done three for you (or have started four... orz):  
- _**I see the tears in your eyes. Baby, what are you hiding? **_**- Fem!USxFem!UK. US and UK's relationship suddenly gets a lot stronger after a big fight and reconciliation, but US wonders why UK doesn't want to go any further than kissing... **_**Rated M.**_**  
- **_**Sensei! Sensei! Daisuki yo! **_**- USxUK. US is UK's science teacher, and often uses UK as an example for his biology lessons, both for his own excitement... and UK's! UK is just a lonesome student, so what is he to do when he develops feelings for his unorthodox American teacher?! **_**Rated M.**_**  
- **_**You Jump, I Jump**_** - USxUKxUS. UK gets emotional after watching **_**Titanic**_** and calls US for comfort, only for US to insult him. He hangs up on US, and US immediately goes on a guilt trip and tries to persuade UK to forgive him. **_**Rated K+/T.  
**_**- And then another UKxUSxUK oneee... but I'm not entirely sure about it. It's really weird and emotional and cliché and crappy and I don't like it 'cause I'm not one for emotions and feelings and stuff. So it's weird. Yeah. lol.**_****_

**(1) Ông - "Mister" in Vietnamese.  
(2) British/English - UK = United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. However, since I've included Arthur's siblings in this story as separate beings, Arthur = England in this. Britain means the entirety of the UK, whilst England is just England. This mistake is very common, so don't worry about it. I used to make this mistake... I know, sad.  
(3) Sŏn-saeng-nim - "Mister" in Korean.  
(4) Khor toat - Thai for "Sorry."  
(+) Xian cheng = "Mister" in Chinese. Forgot about this one, sorry...  
(5) College in the English school system. To clarify, the American and the English education system is very different. Here in England, we go to college (or sixth form, but don't worry about that, it's basically the equivalent of our college) when we're sixteen and we finish at eighteen, and then we go onto university. Just clearing that up.  
(6) I'm a **_**Fullmetal Alchemist **_**fan, yeah. I even made a previous error that insinuated this... lol.  
Sugoi means cool in case you didn't know.  
Yes, yes, I know, I fail at other languages. I'm trying my hardest here... lol. Which reminds me, I have my Easter holidays soon but I will be ****busy****. I'll be finishing up business coursework, completing art work, and revising absolutely everything (especially business and Spanish) for my GCSEs... even the good grades I got in my English essays aren't enough to console me for this... lulz. Remembering Man U's win against Liverpool lifts my spirits a little though, 'though the Isles aren't doing too well... guess I'll be rooting for the Kings then!  
...Please say some of you like football and hockey? And I don't mean, "Oh yeah, I know Canada won the olympics isn't he a cutie blah..." I'm a sports fan, not just 'cause of Hetalia. Don't make me go sad face on yo' ass.  
...This reminds me of a conversation today... oh teh lulz. T'was about American v English language/culture.  
"But American and English is the same!" some of you cry. (Seriously, someone in class said this... I laughed at them... Yeah, I'm a horrible person. I do try.)  
No. No, they aren't. Knowledge is power. :I  
I'm addicted to the :I face...  
I love it.  
Too much.  
And I'm wasting precious moments of your lives. Heh, I'm (sort of) sorry. :)  
ON YET ANOTHER UNRELATED NOTE I'VE PREORDERED POKÉMON SOUL SILVER VERSION. WHY SILVER AND NOT GOLD? I LOVE LUGIA AND... well... if you'd read the manga, you'd know Silver's... well, bluntly? An angry little ball of angst and rawr who secretly cares for his friends. Tsuntsuntsuntsundereee.  
Yes, I'm a friggin addict. Bleghghhhrughievrnggbnae.  
I make strange noises on my keyboard when tired.**

_**GUYS!!! ATTENTION PLEASE!!! ATENCION POR FAVOR!!!**_**  
After realising I have more than five people reading this, I suddenly feel under pressure. I-is there anything you guys want me to write or something because I'm afraid I'll screw up and I don't want to screw up so do any of you want anything that's not totally crack for me to add to appease you whilst I wallow in fear of a crowd of more than five people?  
Yeah... I don't get out much... -**_**social recluse who hides under tables with oversized hoodies, tea, laptop and video games in the dark **__**every**____**day**_**-**

I don't want any debates on religion. I'm agnostic/atheist (ehh... I'm not sure to be honest... and people don't help me to make up my bloody mind, so frick off if you want to attempt to convert me 'cause that'll put me off whatever you support all the more). The majority of England are Protestant Catholics, whilst America's mostly Catholic as far as I know. _**In spite of that**_**, in this story they aren't full supporters of their own religions. I'm probably mixing myself in here a little. My family are fully fledged Catholics, so I was baptised and had a communion (although I've not been confirmed and I'm not going to be), and I know Bible quotes and get good grades in RE, but that doesn't mean I'm like, "OMG I'M A CHRISTIAN I HATE EVERYONE FEAR ME BURN GAYS MARRIAGE IS FER LIVEZ AND GOD IS ALMIGHTY AND YOUR RELIGION IS WRONG BECAUSE I'M RIGHT RAWWWR." Honestly, I find the Bible **_**the**_** most controversial and slightly hypocritical text I've read/been taught. Every religion has their positives and negatives, and I agree and disagree with many aspects of diverse religions. Personally, I do believe marriage should be for life, but I know life doesn't work that way. Other than that, you know I'm definitely **_**for**_** homosexual rights... hello, I'm writing this story? Flehh. I ramble.  
TL;DR: NO RELIGION SHOVED DOWN MY THROAT PLEASE. I don't give head. :I**

Now I'm gonna go and read to stop thinking for a while. Ciao. -_**salutes**_**-**

Thanks for reading!  
And thanks again for the reviews! :)  
~ Gosan


	27. Hoshikuzu!

_**Thank you**_**, everyone, for your wonderful reviews! I'm trying to reply to them all, but I'm a lazy little Brit. :c Please forgive me. .**

**Shout out to **_**xMerryxMakingx**_**! I love you, Kiku. :) Thank you for my belated Christmas present. XD I read it all in art on Wednesday. They're marvellous and adorable. w Thank youuu, Japan~  
**_**By the way**_**, you should all check out her stories because  
**_**they**_**  
****are****  
**_**ah. may. zing**_**.  
****So go **_**go GO**_**!  
-s**_**ound of engines revving**_**- (mm, F1...)  
Last one there's a burnt scone! :P**

O-o-O-o-O

They watched intently, eyes wide and drinking in every moment, ears open to all of the beautiful sounds. Couples were laughing, chattering, dancing away, some better than others, but the worse couples seemed to be enjoying themselves anyway. The lights of all of the decorated lanterns, dangling from various rooftops and across thin wire (it looked like they were floating), illuminated the entire city. They all glowed warm colours, reds, oranges and yellows reflecting everywhere, emphasising the sun's darkening umber beams. Glass windows on apartments, homes and shops appeared orange in the vague sunlight, and pretty little glass wind chimes glistened and shone beautifully in the low light. Guitars were being strummed, a gentle tune playing, and a few woodwind instruments were backing them, giving the music a more light-hearted feel.

"Japan is very beautiful," Heracles observed quietly, eyes half-closed, looking more blissful than tired for once.

Kiku blinked in surprise before a soft smile took over his usually stoic face. "Yes," he agreed softly, eyes closing as his smile broadened. "I have missed my home." He felt a hand on his head and blinked his eyes open, glancing up at the brunet in surprise, before smiling again, a tinge of pink dusting his cheeks. "Perhaps... Perhaps someday, we may go to Greece..."

Heracles smiled languidly, eyes shining. Kiku didn't know whether it was because of the sun, the lanterns, or because he was happy. But whatever it was, he thought the turquoise depths were utterly beautiful. "Yeah," Heracles agreed, rufling Kiku's hair before lowering his hand to his side. "We will go someday." _I'm glad... he said 'we'_, he thought happily, warmth spreading in his chest. Kiku subtly shuffled closer and shyly touched the Greek's hand, which was soon grasped and squeezed gently. The Japanese man flushed lightly. He should have known Heracles would notice. For someone so lethargic, the brunet sure was perceptive... "Hmm... Kiku, would you mind showing me around? I would like to see some Japanese culture," he said earnestly, smile sweet and eyes full of such adoration that Kiku felt his cheeks darkening even more.

"A-ah... but, what about Arthur-kun and Alfred-san...?" To accompany his question, he glanced worriedly over at the other two men, blinking in mild surprise when he saw the two standing so close together they were almost hugging. He smiled softly, shocked features softening into something of amusement and endearment.

The Greek noticed his friend's expression and smiled languidly in return. He hummed thoughtfully. "I'm sure they'll be fine," he murmured airily, smiling lazily at the Japanese man before glancing back at the two blondes. "Oi, guys, we're going to look around. Have fun. We'll meet back in a couple of hours." He waved them off dismissively and proceeded to drag a flustered Kiku over to a restaurant, not waiting for a response from either party.

Kiku glanced worriedly back at them, half because he felt guilty for leaving Arthur, and half because he didn't want to be dragged off, _alone_, with his Grecian friend. However, when he caught the bashful reluctance to leave the American's side, Kiku couldn't help but smile. Sighing in defeat, he willingly followed the sleepy brunet towards a food stall. He felt like having some onigiri or something anyway...

"Awesome music," Alfred praised softly, partly to rid himself of the awkward tension between him and the other man, and partly because he really did like the music. Thanks to his late mother's adoration of music, he himself had adapted a love for it quite early in life.

"Mm," Arthur agreed softly, and the American glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. The older man's emerald eyes seemed fixated upon the dancing couples, and the corners of his lips were twitching into a poignant smile. If he listened closely, Alfred could hear the soft hums that mimimcked the tune of the lively music.

Alfred swallowed thickly and rubbed his suddenly sweaty hands on his cargo pants nervously. He chanced a glance around the area, before scowling at the floor in embarrassment, face bright red. "H-hey, Arthur," he murmured quietly, voice a far contrast from his common lighthearted tone.

The Brit glanced up, blinking in confusion, before flushing slightly having realised he'd been humming along. "Ah... Um... Yes?" he stuttered, looking away.

"Um... well... er..." The taller man coughed subtly and scratched his cheek sheepishly. "Uh," he tried again, "I was just wonderin', y'know, if you'd like to... I dunno... uh... that is to say..." He clenched his fists and shut his eyes and blurted out, "Do you want to dance with me?"

The next seven seconds were accumulating to be the worst seconds of his life.

And then Arthur said, "Yes." Or, he had intended to say it. It came out more like a strangled, breathless whisper. But because that was exactly what Alfred was straining his ears to hear, he caught it.

He took a deep, steadying breath and turned to the shorter man. He swallowed again as he shakily trailed his fingertips over Arthur's pale hand. The older man flushed deeper and boldly - at least, in his mind - thread his fingers through the American's tanned ones and slowly, carefully, squeezed his hand. Alfred blinked at him, realising that the other man felt just as uncomfortable as he did. Feeling a strange burst of confidence because of this, he placed his other hand on the other man's hip after grabbing Arthur's other hand and making him put it on his shoulder.

Arthur scowled slightly. "Oi, why do you get to lead?" he grumbled.

Alfred grinned shyly. "I'm a hero," he said, "That's way."

Arthur couldn't stop himself from smiling.

Instead of threading through the dancing couples, they remained where they were, in the middle of the road, which had been closed for the day due to the miniature festival. Their shoes collided with the yellow brick beneath their feet, tinted orange because of the hue of the sun. Both were blushing brightly and avoiding each other's gazes, Alfred's directed up at the lanterns, and Arthur's staring intently at their shoes. Arthur swallowed and his eyes flickered up to Alfred's face quickly, and then he looked away again. "Um," he stuttered helplessly, cursing himself for being tongue tied. He was usually so suave, too... Well. Okay, not suave. But he never stuttered this much!

"Uh," Alfred muttered, also seeming to stumble over his words. He coughed awkwardly as they stepped backwards, forwards, backwards, forwards. But their movements were stiff. Forced. A frown came to his face and he pursed his lips tightly. _"That's not how you do it, Al! Look, it's like this! You have to let loose and just forget style. Just have fun! Dancing's all about fun! Although, it can be passionate and romantic... Maybe you could use it on your lover when you're older, Al! I know loads of people will be after your heart, sweetie, but you'll only want to give it to one person. Dance with them, honey!"_ He felt his face heat up all over again when his mother's chipper voice resounded in his mind, but memories of her carefree smile provided him with a new drive. He squeezed Arthur's hand, grinning impishly when the Brit looked up at him in shock, and proceeded to drop him. Much to his amusement and the Englishman's horror, the older man emitted a squeal of fear when he thought he was about to be literally thrown to the ground. His grin became bigger, and he lifted up the mortified blond, only to lead him into a dizzying spin.

Azure and emerald clashed, both bright and sparkling and _happy_, and then the American tugged on the pale hand in his grasp, pulling the Brit closer, nearly flush against him. They tightened their grips on each other's hands, and Alfred clutched Arthur's hip in a death grip, but the Brit didn't seem to notice. Probably because he was clutching onto the American's shoulder just as tightly. They didn't notice that the music had slowed down, and that they now had a few spectators. They could only see, hear, smell, sense each other, and they could feel each other's warm breath as they began to lean closer. Arthur felt his eyes finally flutter closed as Alfred's breath ghosted across his lips, and it felt so warm...

Moist, soft lips, just as warm as his breath, pressed against his own. It was gentle, timid and quite awkward and naive, but it felt like the best kiss he had ever had. He could feel himself shaking, knees getting weak as he melted into the kiss that seemed to last a lifetime. Unlike their first, unintentional kiss, this one was so very gentle and caring, and quite shy on both parts. Their lips had only grazed before they were blushing bright red, and then they pressed fully against one another, still timid and hesitant, but so wonderfully warm and sweet.

And when they reluctantly pulled back, they looked dazed and dreamy, eyes bleary but still focused on one another. Their faces were flushed and their breathing was ragged, and they were still holding onto one another. They couldn't say anything. It was... amazing.

And then, suddenly, an ear-splitting cheer erupted from behind them and the romantic, hazy atmosphere dissolved. Suddenly, the warm sunny background that had been there before was replaced by lots and lots of people, clapping and screaming. Alfred's eyes widened in shock and, briefly, horror, before it registered that the people seemed to be _happy_ for them, and not... not _disgusted_. He glanced down shyly, and caught Arthur's absolutely crimson face. He almost considered breaking away and running off to hide for the rest of his life, but the almost invisble (but plainly obvious to him) smile on the Brit's face somehow prevented him from moving. He could feel himself smiling too.

_"...You'll only want to give [your heart] to one person." _**(1)**

**O-o-O-o-O**

"I'm back!" Arthur called breathlessly as he jogged back up to the waiting Alfred. He put his hands on his knees and leaned forward as he greedily sucked air into his lungs. He glanced up, his still-shy smile looking a tad sheepish. "I'm sorry for the wait," he apologised, standing back up to his full height.

The American mimicked his smile. "Nah, don't worry about it," he said, and then subtly leaned forward. "So, what did ya get?" he enquired, trying to sound nonchalant, but the childlike curiosity on his face shone through.

The older man hugged the bag protectively and glowered warningly, although any intimidating effect was lost when his lips twitched back up again. "Just some presents for the kids," he replied airily, waving him off. "Now, what would you like to do?"

Alfred raised his eyebrows and leaned back, dismissing the shorter man's weird behaviour. Arthur was always weird anyway. "Hmm," he hummed thoughtfully, cocking his head and staring up at the steadily darkening sky. "Food?" he suggested.

Arthur rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling. "All right, all right," he agreed easily, striding up to the American, who still waited patiently. They walked in sync, feeling rather relaxed in each other's presence, and in the dim but warm sunlight. There was a gentle breeze that rustled the tree leaves and flower petals, sending them flying down. "Where would you like to eat?" the Englishman asked, stuffing his carrier bag under one arm as he pushed his fringe out of his eyes. "I need to cut my hair soon," he remarked thoughtfully.

Smiling, the American lifted a hand to brush a stray petal out of the shorter man's saturated blond hair. "Don't," he said, "I like it as it is." He sent his friend a sheepish grin, looking slightly nervous, but Arthur returned it easily. He could see how hard Alfred was trying.

"So, as I asked before," Arthur continued, flushing slightly, "What do you want to eat?" He could still feel where the younger man's warm hand had touched his head...

"Dunno really. I don't know that much about Japanese cuisine," he admitted, a helpless smile coming to his face. "What d'you think I'd like?"

Making a big show of rolling his eyes and huffing, the Brit dragged him around several restaurants, ranging from sushi to teriyaki, ramen, soba, dango and plain old pocky. He attempted to pay for them all (he was a gentleman, after all. Besides, he was used to paying for his friends), but the American had insistantly grabbed his wrist to prevent him from paying for the last few treats, and instead thrust his own money into the vender's hands. Bowing politely, he chirped a bright, "Thank you!" earning charming smiles from the people. Arthur shook his head, wondering how he was just so impossibly sweet and endearing sometimes, and then just stared in horror at the American as he stuffed his face. He jumped back, startled, when the taller man held out a stick of pocky to him. Blinking, he glanced up at the man in bewilderment, earning a light flush in response. "Eat it," Alfred ordered gruffly, blush deepening.

Lips twitching, he tried not to chuckle, and gratefully accepted the treat. He was trying so hard not to giggle at the American's embarrassed scowl. But the tables soon turned when Alfred grabbed his free hand and dragged him around to somewhere or other. In a very literal sense, Alfred had _dragged_ the Brit down the marketplace road, Arthur's shoes scraping against the ground as he did so, until they finally reached whatever the brat was so interested in. Arthur was nearly prepared to berate him for his irritating behaviour, but when he saw the enthralled look on the other blond man's face, he just smiled.

"Catch a fish, and you can keep it. And a prize for your sweetheart," the man at the counter said with a wicked grin. He just laughed heartily when they both turned red. "Ah, young love!" he cried.

Arthur nervously turned to Alfred, worried the prat would be getting angry. He was ready to restrain him from any outlandish behaviour but, much to his shock and relief, the American just gave a weak chuckle in response to the man's statement. "Hey, mister, can I have two tries for two fish?" he asked hopefully.

The man raised his brows. "Yeah, sure. I don't see why not," he said with a carefree shrug, and handed a delicate net to Alfred.

"Do you know how to do it?" Arthur asked softly, blinking at the fish in the miniature pond. Kiku had told him about this game, which was obviously popular in Japan, but Arthur had never actually done it.

Alfred grinned. "Sure do!" he declared. "I once went to some festival with Mattie and my mom, and... yeah," he said, grin softening. "Look, watch me." He grasped the net and watched the fish for a moment. Very carefully, but not too slowly, he placed the net in front of a swimming fish, and picked it up deliberately and conscientiously. And then he beamed, as bright as the sun. "Done it!"

The man raised his brows again. "Hey, well done, kid," he congratulated with a lopsided smile. "Not many people have been able to do it. Wanna choose your first prize, or have your second go first?"

"I'll have another go first. Hey, c'mere, Arthur," he said, inwardly laughing at the look of childlike amazement on the Englishman's face. Honestly, the man usually looked so stern and serious, and he was this astonished by some fish? Obeying his order without question, the Brit knelt down next to him, still staring intently at the fish. "Look, I'll show ya how to do it properly," he offered quietly, and slipped the net into Arthur's hand. The blond glanced up at him, eyes widening when the American's hand cupped over his. He flushed deeply, now distracted from his prior amazement regarding the fish. "You gotta be real careful about it, 'cause the net breaks real easily. Look, choose a fish, and then just try to..." They moved the fragile net towards Arthur's chosen fish - one on its own, smaller than the rest, with a seemingly broken fin; it was swimming awkwardly - and, painstakingly slowly, tried to bait the little fish into the net. The fish swam into it, and then back out.

Arthur's face fell slightly. "Oh... I can't do it," he said, quickly trying to give the net back to Alfred. "You do it," he insisted.

"No, c'mon, try again," the American commanded, squeezing Arthur's hand tighter as they moved the net towards the weird little fish. "Take it slow, and just be careful... That's it, a little closer... Don't startle it or nothin', just... That's it..."

Arthur blushed at the praise, ducking his head slightly, his eyes fluttering when he felt the warm breath on his neck, and the calloused hand over his. _He has such a warm presence_, he thought contentedly, leaning back against him slightly. The American tensed, and he almost shot back up, but then Alfred seemed to relax. The fish went into the net. Arthur's green eyes brightened up perceptibly. "Ah! We caught it!" he cried happily, beaming at the little fish.

"Congrats again!" the man cheered, clapping. "Aren't you a lucky couple?" He laughed again at their embarrassed faces. "Aw, you don't have to get flustered. Congratulations to both of you," he said, slipping their fish into one plastic bag filled with water. "So, what prizes do you guys want?"

"Uh," Alfred said, scanning the rack of plush dolls. He felt his face heat up. He already had his sights set on two of them, but he didn't want to force them upon Arthur.

"How's about you pick for each other?" the man offered, rubbing his nose with his forefinger and grinning toothily.

Arthur blushed and turned away with a very unconvincing scowl. "...The alien," he muttered lowly, so quietly the vendor almost didn't hear him. Alfred's eyes widened and he glanced at Arthur, shocked, but the man didn't meet his gaze.

The man beamed and easily grabbed the alien plushie, tossing it to Alfred. "You already know each other so well?" He laughed.

_I've never blushed this much in my life. Maybe I have a disease_, Alfred thought, but said, "Um... The unicorn." He glanced at Arthur's beet-red face and couldn't stop himself from giggling to himself.

The vendor handed the blindingly white unicorn to the blushing Brit, not commenting on the not-so-manly choice. Instead, he was still wearing his seemingly permenant smile. "Thanks for playing!" he said cheerily.

"Thank you," Alfred and Arthur replied, waving as they walked off. They wandered around for a while, examining little trinkets on stalls and partaking in a few games (one of which involving paintball, which Arthur tried to convince himself that he did _not_ enjoy), before finally giving into their aching feet and collapsing on a bench that overlooked the beautiful horizon. They were seated on an old wooden bench beneath an amazing cherry blossom tree, the petals occasionally fluttering delicately to the floor.

"Say, Arthur," Alfred began nonchalantly, azure eyes staring up at the sakura petals against the contrasting dark night blue sky.

"Hmm?" the Englishman replied softly, subtly examining Alfred's eyes and comparing them to the night sky. He decided Alfred's eyes were better.

"How'd you know I like aliens?"

Arthur blinked before chuckling to himself, smiling up at the flowers. "I didn't," he admitted. "It was just a... gut feeling," he murmured softly, feeling slightly delirious for numerous reasons: the beautiful flowers, the astonishing stars and sky, the wonderful day he'd had, and... being with Alfred.

The American looked at him through the corner of his vision, a smile coming to his own face when he caught the dreamy smile on the older man's face. "Huh," he mused, "Never thought someone like you'd rely on a 'gut feeling'."

"I don't usually," Arthur admitted, casting a mock irritated look at the man beside him. "I think your bad habits are rubbing off on me."

Alfred laughed before flashing his trademark grin. "Heh. I can't stop my rays of awesomeness from spreading."

"'Rays of awesomeness'?" A quirked (thick) eyebrow.

"Yup. You can't deny it," Alfred replied easily.

"You sound like Gilbert," Arthur teased amiably. _I miss Gilbert's inflated ego_, he thought ruefully, before shaking his head adamantly. _Don't ruin this moment by making yourself depressed, you idiot..._

The younger man smiled in response, and then leaned against the bench tiredly. "So," he said, catching Arthur's attention again, "Why'd ya choose that fish?"

Arthur blinked and turned back to him. Then, he smiled. "Because... it needs a friend." **(2)**

Alfred's eyes widened and he stared at him in surprise. "It... needed a friend...?"

The Englishman's smile brightened. "Yeah," he agreed softly. "It was swimming on its own... It was the odd one out, and it looked sad and lonely..." Alfred stared into Arthur's too-green eyes, surprised to see the layers of protection suddenly falling like a curtain, and vulnerability and sadness were completely revealed to him. "If you'll be my star, I'll be your sky. You can hide underneath me and come out at night. When I turn jet black and you show off your light... I live to let you shine... I live to let you shine..." he sang softly, voice somehow sounding paternal and caring. He sang it in a whisper, sounding nearly breathless, and the stars reflected from the sky shone in his eyes. "And you can sky-rocket away from me, and never come back if you find another galaxy. Far from here with more room to fly, just leave me your stardust to remember you by..." He let out a poignant laugh and lifted a hand to rub his eyes. "Ah... I think I must have got some dust in my eye... or maybe my hay fever is acting up. I'll need to buy some anti-histamines... Ah?" He tensed up, stinging eyes widening as he felt a warm arm drape itself around his shoulders and pull him against more heat. He looked up, seeing Alfred's slightly embarrassed, but very determined face, and relaxed against him. "But you can sky-rocket away from me, and never come back if you find another galaxy. Far from here with more room to fly, just leave me your stardust to remember you by... Stardust to remember you by..."

**O-o-O-o-O**

"So, Arthur-kun," Kiku said softly, voice almost a whisper and sounding almost conspiratory. "Did you enjoy yourself today?" he asked, eyes facing straight ahead, watching Meimei shout strange things in a weird mix of Chinese and Japanese at the sky, grabbing Michael and Alfred in headlocks. Heracles wisely stepped away.

Arthur blinked at his friend, before staring at the floor with a content smile. "Yes," he answered finally, after a two minute silence. "I... I had fun," he replied, laughing softly.

The Japanese man tilted his head curiously, inspecting his friend's face, before smiling back. "Is that so?" he mused.

Arthur beamed at him.

**O-o-O-o-O**

_**Axis Powers Hetalia **_**belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

(1) Grammar lesson! Square brackets, i.e. [ ], are used when you want to replace words so that something makes sense. You would have seen this used in newspapers and Wikipedia. Sometimes words are changed so that the sentence can be understood better. When you do this, you use square brackets.  
(2) I don't know why, but this scene made me feel really sad. :( I'd say why, but in fear of sounding really immaculate and stupid, I'm just... not going to elaborate. XD  
**By the way****, in case any of you don't know, the song is **_**Boats and Birds **_**by **_**Gregory and the Hawk**_**. If you haven't heard it, please go and listen to it! It's beautiful. Here, I'll be nice: http:// www . youtube . com / user / Gosangoku13? feature = mhw5#p / f / 7 / FBM2vRx-Fy8  
Remove the spaces! It's a USxUK AMV because... well... i-it just is! I didn't make it, it's in my favourites and I can't be bothered to click on it in a new tab/window and get the real link. Sorry, you'll just have to deal with my crappy self-drawn background of the emo boy. :I (He's my protagonist from the book I'm writing. XD)**

Blegh. I'm sorry if they sounded super duper OOC in this chapter. :I I suck at romance because... I'm a boring, weird, psychopathic person, and whilst I read romance often (...NO WAIT, I DIDN'T MEAN THAT!!!), I suck at writing it. Please forgive me, everyone! I'm trying here. X'D;

I went up to my (heart) capital today to visit the Tate (for the 9,999,999,999th time...), and I couldn't help but think, _**America and England would look so cute standing on the bridge and looking out at the Thames... :)**_**  
...I'm strange...  
Oh, frig. I just remembered I've got to revise even more tomorrow. DX Exams in a few weeks FFFFF-- Let's hope I don't have a breakdown and subsequently fall into a vat of acid and turn into the Joker or something.  
Heh...**

_**OH YEAH**_**, regarding my mini-rant on religion: I didn't mean to offend or anything. I'm just saying, most people I know either try to force atheism on me, or religion. I'm not inclined to either. XD; I was just saying how **_**SOME PEOPLE **_**are dickheads, but I wasn't suggesting that people with religions are bad or anything. I'm just a bipolar person regarding religion, so I label myself as agnostic. Sometimes I feel more like an atheist, others Catholic, Tao... So, yeah, I'm just trying to say I don't appreicate people forcing **_**any**_** beliefs down other people's throats, not just religion. Just clearing that up so I don't get mauled by a bear someone sends to me for anything offensive I might've said... eheh... although I do like bears... so gaiiiz, wanna get me one for my birthday?! Just kidding. XD I'm not one for birthdays, although I do try to get everyone presents. . But I suck and can't spend much money. =/ So my presents always fail epically and I should be shot for 'em, but EH whatever. XD;; I'm babbling, heh... Sorry, sorry!**

This chapter may seem slightly schizophrenic because, when I wrote the beginning, I was kinda pissed off. XD; I won't specify why, 'cause that's completely unrelated. But then when I wrote the ending, I was feeling mushy and gwaaaa because I've been looking at kittens, puppies and babies all day, as well as listening to _**Boats and Birds**_**. *shot* Eheheh...**

I think there was something else I was going to mention/address, but for the life of me I cannot recall what it was! Ugh, bugger. Memory fail. Asdfghjkl. Oh well. Hmm. Anyway. XD

I hope you liked it! Thank you for reading! :)

_**But you can set sail to the west if you want to, and pass the horizon 'til I can't even see you. Far from here, where the beaches are wide... just leave me your wake to remember you by. **_**x :)**


	28. Kuchihige no choko!

**Shout out to my Brusband (brother/husband), Frussia. You're awesome and magnificent and amazing, you idiot. So, think better of yourself. You should know how wonderful you are already.**

**And Robby, I don't know why you're so sad right now, but I hope you feel better soon. Whatever it is, you'll always have Jay, the others, and I, no matter what. Please smile soon. :)**

**To all the readers, I apologise for the excessively much-longer-than-usual wait. XD; I'd blame my bloody exams, but... -**_**coughs embarrassedly**_**- Truth is, I'm just kind of lazy... But you know what? I can blame someone. I blame Ameri-- uh, Suzumericamaki (Suzume Chiyu, but meh, the name I made is easier! -**_**shot**_**-)! Blame her. -**_**nod nod**_**- So, let's get on with this so I can watch more **_**Top Gear**_**~**

O-o-O-o-O

****It's... warm,_ he thought in confusion. He felt as if he were laying on a floating cloud, with sunlight gently lapping at his skin. _Why... is it warm?_ he wondered, scrunching his brows together as he fought against the light to open his eyes. He blinked a few times when he saw a lithe figure sitting at the end of his floating bed. Pushing himself up, he tilted his head and opened his mouth to speak, only to stop suddenly. _What...?_ he thought, feeling... different somehow. He slowly lowered his eyes, feeling lethargic, and they widened in shock when he saw his small arms and tiny, chubby hands. "What is this?" he whispered, a slither of uncertainty and fear entering him._

_"Ah, Alfred," a gentle voice said softly, and blue eyes snapped up to meet a closed-eyed smile. "So, you woke up. Finally," the person said, raising a hand to their mouth as they laughed delicately._

_"Who... Who are you?" Alfred asked quietly, swallowing nervously as he tried to edge away. He felt stuck._

_The person's eyes opened slowly, revealing piercing emerald eyes. Suddenly, the fragile, feminine frame shifted and morphed into a slender, but more masculine one. The bright green eyes filled with tears and blue lips cracked open and, weakly, the person whispered, "Don't you remember me, Alfred?"_

_Blue eyes widened and he gasped softly, and then tried to spring up, but found he couldn't. He tried to thrash around, but only succeeded in tiring himself out. It was like he was bound by some invisible force. "A-Ar...thur?" he murmured, completely bewildered. "What is--?" he began, but stopped when a pained groan slipped through the man's trembling lips. Alfred watched in horror when, suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, there was a horrible, disgusting sound, and a blade plunged right through Arthur. The blond opened his mouth to scream, but was prevented from doing so as large, boney fingers wound themselves around his chin and jerked his head up forcefully. Blue lips clashed with frighteningly pale ones, and Alfred cringed in revulsion and terror when he noticed blood seep hastily through Arthur's shirt. "Arthur!" he cried, fingers clenching the sheets when the man tried to struggle out of the larger man's grasp. "Arthur!" Why couldn't he _move_?_

_Slowly, the pale lips retracted from Arthur's, now stained with red. Arthur coughed, gasping and wheezing as blood splattered out from his mouth. The other man was now holding him up, smirking sadistically as he licked his lips. Violet eyes glinted mercilessly._

_"Alfred F. Jones," he said clearly, smirk cold and uninviting, as he wound his bloodied fingers through Arthur's golden hair. _

_Alfred's eyes widened. "How do you know my...?" he began, only to cut himself off. "Know what? It doesn't matter! Let Arthur go, and--"_

_"Why would I do as you say?" the large man retorted, sounding completely innocent in spite of his sparkling, disgusting eyes. "You cannot even save yourself... You will never be able to help him." He giggled, the childish sound sending shivers up Alfred's motionless spine._

_"I _can_ save him!" he insisted furiously, thrashing against the invisible force that kept him down. "I can!" he screamed, sweat forming on his brow after his efforts to force himself out of the force. _What is it?! How am I being held down?!

_Violet eyes bored into him, unyielding, as big arms wrapped around Arthur's bloodied, shivering form. The larger man smiled a sickeningly sweet smile, and Alfred growled deep in his throat, trying not to choke on a sob. Why was he so helpless?! "I don't believe you," the man sung softly, tauntingly, and then his sweet smile transformed into a dark glare that made Alfred suck in a breath and freeze again. "You're a liar, Alfred F. Jones. You let your mother die... Now, it's his turn."_

_"No!" Alfred screamed, thrashing wildly, feeling tears slip speedily down his cheeks when the two men began disappearing into the shadows. "No! Let him go! Arthur!"_

_"Al...fred," a weak voice breathed. "Alfred... I..."_

What? You what? Tell me! What is it?! Arthur!

_"I..."_

"...am coming home _soon_, Peter," the same voice continued, tone less breathless and scared, and more irritated and perplexed.

Blue eyes snapped open, and he sat up hastily, wide, terrified eyes analysing himself. _I'm... I'm big again!_ he realised, and then glanced up sharply, never before feeling so happy to see Arthur. The man, clad not in bloodied attire, but in a simple waistcoat, long-sleeved stripey shirt, and jeans.

"No, don't be stupid. Why would I get such an insufferable brat a present? Honestly, you're so rude and imposing... What? Don't be absurd! Huh? P-Peter, you...!" He turned abruptly, face red, and then he blinked when he met wild blue eyes. Blinking, his embarrassed and angry tone became a lot softer as he said, "Yes."

Alfred furrowed his brows, confused. That was odd...

Arthur's face reddened. "That's... Now you're just being stupid. Oh? All right then," he said, slowly walking over to Alfred and kneeling beside his fuuton. He waved, feeling a bit stupid, but was rewarded by a weak smile and peace sign from the American. "Okay... Yeah, I'll see you soon. Bye for now, Peter. Take care. Y-yeah, well, I don't love you either! Good _bye_!" He removed the phone from his ear and hastily hung up, pouting sulkily. "Brat," he murmured, sticking the phone in his pocket.

"That was your... son, right?" Alfred enquired. It was so weird saying that. Arthur just looked way too young for a kid...

"Yeah, Peter," the Brit confirmed, and then looked up, gazing right into Alfred's eyes. He remained silent for a moment, just staring, and then sent the younger man a disarming smile. "Well, you should get up now. I packed your things since we're leaving in a few hours. I was going to wake you up soon anyway, since I thought you'd like some breakfast before we left." He stood up, brushing off his black skinnies. "So, hurry it up. I've been wait--" He stopped, and his face suddenly flared crimson. He turned away, folding his arms and marching out of the room. "Just hurry up!" he insisted, and then slammed the door behind him.

_I'd be more amused and/or irritated by his behaviour_, Alfred thought vaguely, running his hands through his hair as he stared blankly at his sheets, _if it weren't for that weird dream..._

**O-o-O-o-O**

"You took your sweet bloody time," Arthur drawled with a scowl, arms still folded tightly across his chest.

"Yeah, well, I didn't tell ya t' wait for me, did I?" the American snapped in return, sticking his hands in his pockets and walking away briskly, head down and shoulders hunched defensively.

Arthur blinked in surprise, unfolding his arms and letting them drop by his sides. He stared after his companion in silence for a long moment, before sighing and trailing along after him. _I wonder... what he dreamt of?_ Letting out another sigh, he planted on a face of nonchalance as he entered the room full of boisterous laughter and conversational murmurs. He frowned at Alfred's tense back, huddled over at the bar, sitting next to an equally as overwrought Francis. He huffed to himself, not quite understanding why, and went to sit next to a strangely quiet Gilbert.

"Life sucks," the German muttered as soon as the blond sat down.

"That is does, Gilbert," Arthur replied with a sigh, staring at his hands. "That it does."

"Want a drink?"

"Definitely."

**O-o-O-o-O**

An albino swayed on his stool as he greedily drank his fourth cup of sake. He slammed it back down and glared at the wall for a moment, before deciding to say, "People are... people're..."

"Gits!" an Englishman finished as he heaved his drink into the air, and then downed the alcohol himself.

"Yeah!" Gilbert agreed, leaning to his left to wrap his arm around his friend, and managed to do so after two failed attempts, and almost falling off of his stool. After steadying himself and blinking his vision back in working order, he turned to his blond friend. "You... Ya know," he said, holding back a burp as he leaned his forehead against Arthur's. Hazy green eyes met his, blinking slowly.

"That life sh...sh...shucksz...?" he murmured, pouting when he couldn't say it properly.

The German laughed hysterically, and then grinned at Arthur. "That," he lamented, red eyes flicking back open to stare into blurry green ones. "And that y... you... you have pretty eyes."

"S-so're... so're yers," Arthur replied, eyelids fluttering closed. "'M sleepy," he suddenly decided. "Didn't sleep well."

"Someone keep ya up?" Gilbert enquired, almost falling over again when a blond head fell on his shoulder.

"Muh," came the Brit's articulate answer. "Nnn... 'S too damn cold. Why's... why'sh it so fff...fucking... cooold?" he whined, looking up at the albino with such a sad expression. _'E looks like his fuckin'... fuckin' puppy died. Or somethin...g_, Gilbert thought.

Suddenly, Arthur's world became blur; all of the colours whirling around and mixing together to make pitch black for a second. He whined and clutched the warm thing that suddenly enveloped him. "Gaaah," he whimpered. "'S daaark _and_ cold!"

He heard a disgruntled sound, and looked up lethargically to see a very, very pissed off gaze directed past him. "What were you doing? Messing with someone who's drunk," he hissed.

"Alfred," a very _French_ voice replied, "I believe Gilbert is also drunk. Go and take Arthur to get some water to sober 'im up before we head off." His words were followed by a screech of a chair, a drawn-out whine, and then silence.

Arthur blinked several times up at the blue-eyed man, staring at him in silent appraisal, until the guy glanced down at him in aggravation. "Jeez," the American said, wrapping an arm around the smaller man's shoulders to guide him over to a quieter area. "You're such a hindrance..."

The Brit blinked up at him again. Then, "'M cold, Al..."

Alfred stiffened considerably, and then his cheeks flushed bright red. Sighing in irritation, he shrugged his jacket off and flung it over the Brit's shoulders. "Such a hindrance," he repeated under his breath as they walked on.

Arthur's alcohol-induced flush deepened slightly as he raised his hands to clutch the jacket. Closing his eyes, he breathed in the sent of Alfred. _I should have gone to a performing arts school..._

**O-o-O-o-O**

"It's been fun, guys! Please come back any time!" Niran said cheerily, beaming brightly and waving animatedly as his girlfriend handed out bento to everyone.

"Niran, lower your voice," Thuy insisted with a glare, but then smiled and handed another bento to Yao. "It's been great seeing you again, Yao." She bowed slightly, long black hair falling over her shoulders.

The Chinese man smiled at his younger sibling and bowed in return. "It has been wonderful to see you too, Thuy," he replied, and the leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Call us when you set a date for the wedding." He stood back up, smiling innocently as the woman's face flared bright red.

"Get out of the way," she snapped embarrassedly, scowling at him to hide her butterflies. "It's Kiku's turn." She pushed him by the shoulder huffily, but smiled at her other brother when he took Yao's place. "Kiku," she said, handing him his bento, "I will miss you."

"I will miss you too, Thuy-chan," the Japanese man said softly, placing a hand on his sister's head and smiling at her. "Please take care of yourself... and Niran-kun."

The younger woman's lips twitched, and she nodded. "I will," she promised, and then hid a smirk behind her hand. "If you promise to take care of Heracles-_kun_," she countered.

Kiku flushed brightly, but didn't object. He bowed swiftly and scuttled over to the Greek man, standing by his side shyly. Thuy chortled to herself, and then beamed as Meimei and Yong Soo approached her.

"Please take care. I will see you soon...? Ah--!" she yelped as her siblings jumped and hugged her tightly. "Y-Yong Soo! Meimei!" she squeaked, flushing.

"I'll miss you, sister! But I will be sure to write and call you every night!" Meimei vowed, eyes sparkling with determination.

Thuy laughed nervously. _You do that already anyway..._

"And I'll take care of Yao, Thuy! You can be sure of that, because he's mine!" Yong Soo declared, and Thuy twitched.

_You idiot, you can't own people..._ she thought, but smiled. He meant well. "I'll hold you to that, Yong Soo," she replied, rufling the tall man's hair. "You two had best get going now, everyone has boarded the coach," she observed, trying to sound stern. _I'll miss you... I'll miss you guys a lot..._ she thought sadly, smile dissolving into a poignant frown as her siblings grinned, hugged her once more, and waved as they dashed over to the coach. They all waved from the windows, and her lips twitched again as she waved back. She swallowed, heart sinking when the engines revved, and the coach moved as it made a U-turn to swerve out of the gravel and onto the road. "Goodbye," she whispered softly, blinking furiously to keep any tears at bay. "Ah?" She looked up, shocked, when she felt an arm weave around her shoulders, and her eyes widened when she saw tears in a smiling Niran's eyes. "N-Niran..."

"We'll see them again," he said, smiling at her through his tears. "Someday soon, I promise."

"Ah..." Thuy's features softened and she returned the smile, leaning into his embrace. "Yes," she agreed quietly as sakura petals floated down, wind picking them up off the floor and making them dance. "I trust you."

**O-o-O-o-O**

_He looks really kinda... small... in my jacket_, Alfred thought, subtly staring at the sleepy-looking Brit out of the corner of his eye. _He looks almost the same as he did in my dream, just..._ He swallowed. _Without the blood_. "Arthur," he found himself blurting out.

Blinking, green eyes slowly moved from scanning the outside, up to the embarrassed, nervous face of the American. "Yes...?" he asked slowly, attempting to meet the sheepish-looking eyes of his companion.

"I..." he began, trailing off into silence suddenly. He bit his lip, staring down at his hands that he wrung together nervously. "You're..." _Ugh, I don't even know what I'm saying..._ "Do... Do you know..."

"Do I know...?" the Brit prompted and, if Alfred wasn't facing an inner battle over conflicting emotions, he would have promptly realised that Arthur wasn't acting as if he were drunk. As it was...

Retracting his teeth, his tongue flickered over his dented lips nervously. _What am I supposed to say? "Do you know a sadistic, murderous, creepy Russian dude with weird vibrant violet eyes by any chance? Only, I had a dream and the very same guy I just described snogged you and stabbed you within the same minute. Just curious. I mean, if that's your kinda thing, I'm cool with it, I guess, but..." Yeah, he'd kill me... But he's gonna be my therapist, right...? So..._ "I mean," he corrected, voice shaky as he averted his eyes to stare at his feet. "You're s'posed to be my therapist, right?" He repeated his thoughts.

Green eyes blinked, skimming over his face, and then the man nodded. "Right," he agreed.

"So... uh..." Alfred lifted a hand to scratch the back of his neck sheepishly. "That is... I mean..." He swallowed and let out a shuddering breath. "Can... I... tell you about my dream?"

A pause. Then, "Yeah. Go for it."

The American glanced to his side, seeing Arthur's impossibly emerald eyes were still trained on his face intently. "Uh..." Surprisingly, the Brit didn't make a sarcastic comment regarding how articulate he was at that moment. He didn't know if he was thankful for the change, or perturbed by the lack of normalcy in the situation.

"Spit it out."

His lips twitched slightly. That was normal... "Alright," he breathed. "So, it was like this..."

**O-o-O-o-O**

Azure eyes stared unwaveringly at lethargic green ones, as if trying to gain some knowledge of what was going on in the smaller man's head. After Alfred had reiterated his entire dream, including the details and the inclusion of Arthur (although he didn't tell the guy that it was Arthur; he told him it was a girl in America he'd met once, and didn't notice the thick brows drawing together after that little lie), and the creepy Russian guy. They had arrived at the airport nearly twenty minutes ago, and everyone else was wondering around in the shops, purchasing souvenirs. Alfred and Arthur had followed at first to keep up appearances, but didn't buy anything. They soon left to grab a drink and then took their seats to wait for their plane to come in. He had finished his story as they had disembarked off of the coach, and Arthur had been nearly completely silent after it. Alfred was beginning to worry. What if Arthur was disturbed? What if the guy thought he was schizophrenic or something? What if--?

"Alfred," he suddenly said softly, sound absolutely nonchalant and carefree. The American looked up in surprise, blinking at the Brit fearfully. _What? What is it?_ "There's no use scaring yourself over possibilities." With that, his eyelids fluttered down, lashes brushing against his cheeks as he sipped at his hot chocolate.

Alfred blinked several times, mouth open as he gaped like a fish. _"There's no use scaring yourself over possibilities"? What does _that_ mean? Is that all he has to say?_ he thought angrily, clenching his fists on the table as he glared furiously at the seemingly uncaring Englishman opposite him. "Is that it?" he hissed lowly, voice suddenly a few octaves lower, sounding more like the Brit's deeper voice.

Green eyes flickered up, looking bored. "What do you want me to say?"

The American twitched, gritting his teeth tightly. He slammed his fists down on the table, rage growing when Arthur uncaringly held up his hot chocolate so it didn't spill, and stood, throwing his chair back unintentionally. Several heads turned in their direction, but he didn't notice.

"You're causing a scene, Alfred," Arthur berated, sipping at his hot drink.

"Well, _excuse me_ for being a bit _pissed off_," the younger man retorted sarcastically. "I thought you were supposed to be a fucking _therapist_!" He threw his hands up angrily, rolling his eyes skyward before lowering them to glower at Arthur menacingly. "And all you can say is, '_You're causing a scene_'?" he repeated incredulously. "Aren't you supposed to ask me, 'And how do you feel about that?' or something?" he shouted, brow twitching as his chest heaved, finally stopping to breathe.

Arthur blinked up at him slowly, and then grabbed a packet of white sugar and poured it in his hot chocolate. He stirred it tantalisingly slowly, and then lifted it for an extra long sip. Lowering it, and not noticing the chocolate mustache on his face, he leaned on his hand and looked up at the irritated American. He raised a brow challengingly. "Which is exactly why I don't," he muttered quietly, closing his eyes and sighing when the American's frown jut deepened. "I don't want to be a cliché therapist who only does what's expected of them. Otherwise, it would make our relationship fake. I don't have fake relationships with anyone; friends, clients, or otherwise." He flicked a bit of blond hair out of his face, and then tilted his head slightly at the angry man. "Do you want me to do that? Ask you about your feelings, when you're so obviously confused and conflicted and indecisive about everything?" he enquired, voice gentle and compromising rather than dry and cynical. He offered a small smile to the American, whose anger was steadily melting away.

Sighing a long-suffering sigh, Alfred dropped his angry demeanor and slumped in defeat. "Yeah," he agreed, "You're right." Arthur nodded, dropping his smile.

"Then take your seat--"

"And you've also got chocolate smeared over your mouth," he added, lips twitching upwards when the Brit blinked in confusion.

"I've..." he began, only for his eyes to widen in realisation. He let out a not-so-manly squeak and lifted a hand to brush it off, only for it to be caught. Blinking curiously, he scowled up at the taller man in bewilderment. "What are--?" He stopped when Alfred brushed his thumb across his upper lip gently, and tensed up to suppress a shudder when the man's fingers traced over his lips. He tried not to giggle. _It tickles, you idiot..._ he thought, feeling his face heat up.

As if only just realising what he had done, Alfred retracted his hand as if burnt, and immediately took his seat again. Face flushed brightly, he picked up his coffee (that he chose over coke just to keep him going. Coke may also have caffeine, but it also has sugar, and he didn't want to crash) and chugged it greedily to hide his red face.

Sitting across from him, Arthur stared down at his shaking hands and clenched his drink tighter to hide it. _I can't stop..._

**O-o-O-o-O**

"Eh...? Arthur, did you switch seats with Mattie?" Alfred asked, blinking in surprise when the Brit pushed him out of the way to take his seat.

Arthur raised a random magazine to hide his face. "It's not like I did it to be near you or anything," he muttered uncaringly, flipping a page even though he hadn't read it yet. "Matthew wanted to sit next to the idiots. So, don't read too much into this. It's not as if I wanted to sit near you," he repeated, shoulders hunched and face buried deeply into the magazine.

The American smiled stifling chuckles just so the Englishman wouldn't get even more embarrassed. But... this was just too good to pass up. "_Nuts_ magazine, huh? Never knew you were that perverted..."

Arthur froze, slowly extracting the magazine from his face. He stared at it blankly for a moment, before letting out a screech and tossing it in Alfred's face. The American chuckled, and then his eyes strayed down to the cover, but Arthur snatched it back, glaring darkly. "_You_ aren't reading _this_," he muttered. "Francis!" he shouted, and, nearly immediately, the French man appeared near them, looming over Alfred to reach the crimson-faced Brit.

"Oui, mon cher?" he drawled, voice dripping with honey. (_Poison honey_, Arthur's mind added.) A magazine was tossed in his face.

"That's your birthday present," Arthur said, and then crossed his legs and turned away from the two befuddled men.

**O-o-O-o-O**

_**Axis Powers Hetalia **_**belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

**Hey, everyone. Once again, I apologise for the delay, but blame Suzu. It's all her fault, I assure you. -**_**smiles angelically**_**- She's been distracting me, so it's her fault~**

**If you don't understand the dream, don't worry. It'll make a lot more sense in a few chapters. America was a kid in the dream, and that will be explained later. As for Russia kissing/murdering (sadomasochism ftw) England... you'll understand this later too. Hopefully, if my metaphorical explanations will suffice...**

**In case you guys don't know (and are blissfully unaware), **_**Nuts**_** is a magazine in which there are lots of... um... -**_**fidgets**_**- not-very-clothed female species. -**_**coughs and scowls**_**- H-hey, it isn't my fault I know! It's not like I'm perverted like that, I swear...! My cousins read them!**

**OTL... Suzu'll get a kick outta this, I bet. ¬.¬;;**

**Random and completely unecessary information, buuut... I'm getting new glasses... again. My eyes fail at life (I kinda murdered 'em when I was younger... Hard to believe I once had perfect vision...), sooo... yarr. And no one I know actually knows my age. XD**

**Optician lady (whom I figured out was Polish as my powers of perception are as awesome as Sherlock Holmes): How old is Gosan?**

**Gosan's aunt: Um... Sixteen? No... um... When's your birthday... I don't know, how old are you? Have you turned sixteen yet?**

**Gosan: (You have my fricking birth date on your fricking forms and bloody database, you twat.) I'm fifteen.**

**Optician lady & my aunt: Oh, okay... -start conversation with each other and once again forget I exist-**

**(FFF I'm supposed to be England, not Canada! That's Niamh! -shotshotSHOT-)**

**'M thinking of putting other stories on hold until this one's finished... Mouuu, I don't know...**

**Hey, question, do Americans really call ladybirds "ladybugs"? OnO; ...I think our term is better! -nod nod!- Speaking of ladybirds, though... I have **_**loads**_** of them in my garden! Bloody thousands! -exaggerating, but still.- And I think they were... ... ... breeding.**

**ANYWAY. Go check out Suzu's absolutely bloody brilliantly awesometastically fantastical amazingly astonishingly fanfic... made of awesomesauce. Now with 85% more Prussia! ...Not really. But still... it's awesome. -insert 'less than three' love heart sign here- **_**http:// www. fanfiction .net /s/5939108/1/ Its_the_Thought_That_Counts **_**You know the drill; remove the spaces~**

**Next time, things get dramatic. D8 Is Arthur being followed? And why do Yao and Ludwig keep disappearing?! Find out next time~! (I sound like an advertisement... **_**SHAM WOW**_**!)**

**Who wants bonus points and a virtual biscuit? Or cookie, if you're American. Whateverrrr. Or awesomesauce? Yeah, who wants some awesomesauce? To get the (virtual) awesomesauce, answer this question correctly!**

**When **_**Top Gear**_** went to Vietnam, what colour did Jeremy and James spraypaint Richard's bike? Additionally, for moar bonus points (and a biscuit), what excuse did they come up with? EVEN MORE ADDITIONALLY (because I want you all to be overachievers and be successful CB), what was Richard doing whilst they spraypainted his precious bike? XD**

**See you guys later~! 533 Y0U G41Z 18R! 1f j00 c4|\| 734|) 7|-|15, j00 |\|33|) 70 637 |41|)~! (But how bad am I? I wrote it! OTL...) -**_**shotshotSHOTDEAD**_**-**


	29. Kare no namae!

**Meow.**

**That is all. :)**

**O-o-O-o-O**

"I'm sooo hungry," Alfred whined petulantly, gazing down forlornly at his stomach as he rubbed it ruefully.

Arthur rolled his eyes and shook his head, turning to frown at him in disapproval. "You ate a few hours ago," he muttered irritably.

"But I'm hungry again," the American insisted, pouting childishly at the irked man beside him. "D'you think they'll bring a cart of food down soon? I'm starving."

Despite himself, Arthur couldn't help but smile at the younger man's childish exuberance. "Probably," he agreed, if only to ease the idiot's insatiable apetite. He flushed and looked away when he received a bright grin. _He's made happy so easily_, he thought embarrassedly, fiddling with his fingers and tearing at a newspaper in his lap. _And I made him smile this time..._

"Hey, you didn't forget your fish, did you?" Alfred suddenly asked, and Arthur looked up quickly, his reverie broken.

"Of course not!" he replied hastily, scowling deeply. _As if I'd leave it behind_, he thought, quite insulted that the American had suggested such a thing.

"Whoa, whoa, chill," the larger man said, holding his hands up in surrender, as he scrutinised the Brit. "I didn't mean to imply anything..."

"I should hope not," Arthur muttered, folding his arms across his chest and scowling at the fluffy white clouds outside the window.

The man beside him frowned in agitation. _Jeez, I was only asking. Why'd he get so defensive about it? Anyway, it's just a fish..._ His annoyance dissipated and he tilted his head as he inspected the sulking Brit beside him. _But he seemed so..._

_"So, why'd ya choose that fish?"_

_"Because... it needs a friend."_

"It... needs a friend...?"

His troubled scowl deepened as his thoughts reigned. This was the reason he disliked being bored or hungry; his mind wandered down dangerous paths, and it came up with various outcomes. He deliberately attempted not to over-analyse things like Arthur did, but when he had nothing to keep him occupied, he couldn't help it. He didn't just think of food or video games or girls, but instead let himself grow pensive over events that involved him. Closing his eyes and letting out a sigh of annoyance, he fell back into his chair, trying to relax.

But it was short-lived.

"Just because you're a thoughtless American doesn't mean I am, so don't make such assumptions."

Alfred tensed up and glared furiously, sitting up and glowering down at the angsty Englishman. "Excuse me?" he hissed, clutching at the armrests to prevent himself from lashing out.

He met blasé green eyes, which only served to provoke him further. "You may do something like that," he murmured nonchalantly, letting his gaze drift away from Alfred, "But I wouldn't."

"Neither would I! I was only trying to make conversation, but seeing as you're such an emo jerk—!"

"Emo? _Emo_? You're calling _me_ 'emo' when you're clearly the one who's constantly complaining about life?"

"As if you don't!"

The green eyes rolled skyward. "Honestly. I don't know what's wrong with you, but it's probably complicated."

Twitching angrily and prepared to scream at the bastard, Alfred opened his mouth, only to be interrupted by a smooth voice cutting in icily, "Excuse me. You are disturbing some of the passengers... It's making me angry."

The American felt his fury sizzle into dull irritation and he turned to smile apologetically at the woman. "My bad," he said. "We'll shut up now, right, Arthur?" he offered, smiling at the stoney face of the young woman staring down at him imperiously. He blinked, eyes fluttering open, and his eyebrows furrowed at the impassive indigo eyes staring past him. Turning and glancing at Arthur, he felt his heart stop when he saw those same green eyes that, only moments ago were driving him mad, were now wide and horrified. Startled, and very unnerved by the man's very sudden transformation, he felt a feeling of protectiveness surge through him, and he shifted not-so-subtly to block Arthur from the woman's vision. Frosty indigo eyes moved to bore into his, still uninterested. "If that's all, you can go now." He was surprised he could make his own voice sound that threatening, and whilst the woman didn't seem disturbed by it, beside him, Francis stiffened slightly.

Much to his relief, though, the platinum blonde lady swerved around and marched off, disappearing down the aisle. Ignoring the bewildered look the French man threw at him, Alfred turned to the wide-eyed Arthur beside him and gently prodded his shoulder, perturbed when the smaller man sucked in a quick breath.

"Arthur...?" he ventured worriedly, not taking his eyes off of the too-bright green ones. "She's gone now, so..." _Why did he freeze up like that?_

Arthur blinked several times, and, finally, the haze lifted from his vision and he slumped back into his chair, letting out a shakey laugh. "Right," he said softly. "She's gone. Yes, she's gone. It's fine. She's gone. It's okay," he repeated under his breath.

Alfred almost reached forward to grasp his hand. He could see the frazzled Brit trembling. Licking his lips, he reached forward, hand hovering above the older man's, and then drew back sharply. Breathing in deeply through his nose and holding his breath, he closed his eyes tightly. _Coward_, he thought. _But..._

As he glanced at Arthur, and Arthur glanced at him, they shared the same thought.

_I still don't know where that reaction came from..._

**O-o-O-o-O**

After what felt like forever, Meimei finally announced to the rest of the plane that there was only about two hours left of the journey. The rest of the plane cheered happily, many of the older people smiling at her enthusiasm. Alfred, however, was bored out of his mind. And hungry. The food cart had finally arrived a few hours ago, but he had found he had lost his apetite after Arthur's strange reaction, and now he was famished once more. "So hungryyy," he murmured ruefully.

"Here," Arthur snapped, and thrust a Mars bar in front of the whinging brat.

Blinking, blue eyes stared at the chocolate treat, before trailing up the arm to see Arthur's flushed face. He blinked again.

"Well? What are you waiting for? I thought you were hungry, s-so just take it!" the Englishman ordered embarrassedly.

Alfred couldn't help but smile, finally able to translate the man's strange English.

_"Thank you for helping me."_

He carefully grasped the chocolate bar, and waited until the Brit turned around to frown at him. His smile widened into a grin.

_"It's the least I could do."_

Huffing, and pretending to be annoyed, Arthur drew back, his cool touch lingering on Alfred's fingertips. Smiling and unwrapping the paper, he savoured it. Turning to glance at the blushing Brit beside him, he couldn't help but relax into his seat, sighing contentedly.

_I wonder what his cooking tastes like..._

**O-o-O-o-O**

Their luggage seemed to take centuries to revolve around the automatic belt, and they each took turns grabbing suitcases and sitting down. The Spaniard finally found his concentration dwindling and smiled appreciatively when Francis and Gilbert popped up from nowhere offering to take a turn getting all the luggage. Immediately, Antonio agreed and flounced off, grinning at the dark sky outside, which was overcast with thick grey clouds as rain dribbled down, the soft rainfall easily drenching the windows, cars and ground outside.

"Finally, we are back home to our lovely cold city!" Antonio declared with a bright laugh, only grinning when Arthur scowled at him, and retreated to safety with Lovino and Feliciano, blinking in confusion when the German excused himself to take a phone call. He turned to the younger Italian brother curiously. "Feliciano?" he asked, confused and concerned when sad brown eyes looked up at him. "What is...?"

The Italian smiled ruefully up at him. "It's okay, Antonio," he said softly, a pained smile decorating his lips.

Lovino found his temper steadily spiking. Clenching his fists tightly, he growled, "Want me to take care of that fucking bastard for you, Feliciano?"

Feliciano smiled at his brother's protective streak, but slowly shook his head. "Leave it, Lovino," he soothed, shaking his head. "It's fine."

His older brother deflated, a worried scowl painted across his face despite himself, and he couldn't vanquish the feeling of fury bubbling in his chest. What the hell was with that German bastard? He was prepared to storm over to the man in spite of Feliciano's assurances, but a warm hand on his stopped him. Looking down, he found his brother clutching at his hand and staring down at the floor despondently, and he couldn't help but feel guilty for whatever reason... _Feliciano..._

Shaking his head, he mimicked his brother's stance, but squeezed the younger man's hand in faux reassurrance.

_I wish I weren't so useless..._

Gilbert and Arthur stared after the German, mistrust and bewilderment shining clear in their eyes.

**O-o-O-o-O**

"I've missed this," Kiku said as they finally managed to collect all of their luggage and exit the airport. He looked up, squinting slightly, as raindrops cascaded down freely from the dark midnight sky.

"Same here," Arthur murmured beside him. The Japanese man glanced at his friend curiously, wondering why his tone was less excited than his words suggested. In fact, the blond seemed quite tense.

Blinking and cocking his head thoughtfully, Kiku experimentally mumbled softly, "It's not like you're not going to see everyone again, Arthur-kun... Especially as Alfred-san is your client now..."

An irked frown made its way onto Arthur's face, and he muttered, "Don't call him my client. It sounds..." _impersonal. Cold. Heartless. Wrong. _"Odd." He wilted beneath his friend's knowing smile.

"Ah, is that so? In any case, I must bid the others farewell. I will see you at work tomorrow, Arthur-kun. Please sleep well," he said, as polite and caring as always. But Arthur could see the flicker of amusement in his monochromatic eyes.

"Y-yeah. See you later, Kiku," the Englishman replied quietly, staring after the Asian as he disappeared back inside to bid farewell to the others, and he saw him laughing through the glass as his sister hugged him and his brothers ruffled his hair and patted his shoulders.

_If only..._

"Oof," he said, looking up and glowering in agitation when he caught sight of slinted red eyes and a shit-eating grin. "Gilbert..." he began, only to have his suitcase snatched off of him. He kept hold of his fish tightly, and stared at the German in complete befuddlement.

"I'll take this to the car—You are staying at my place, right? Of course you are. So, yeah, you go say g'bye to Lover Boy, and I'll see you at my awesome car. Ciao," he babbled, and then dashed out into the rain, tugging along his and Arthur's suitcases as he shouted curse words at the overcast sky. "Damn you, English weather!"

Arthur stared after him, shaking his head at the idiot, but smiled at his behaviour. _Gilbert_, he thought, _Watching you act this way... it's painful._

"Hey."

He spun around, blinking rapidly in confusion when he saw a flustered looking American looking at him. "Hey," he mimicked uncertainly, clutching his fishes bag tighter and tilting his head at the taller man.

"Uh... so," Alfred said, raising a hand to scratch the back of his neck sheepishly.

"So," Arthur agreed, shifting nervously from foot to foot as his strange little fish bobbed up and down in its temporary plastic box home.

"Yeah. Um. I guess this is goodbye for now then," the American said awkwardly, averting his eyes and coughing into a fist nervously.

_I don't want it to be. _"I suppose so."

_I don't want it to be either. _"Yeah, so..."

_Don't... Don't go. _"But... um... I'll see you whenever you arrange appointments. S-seeing as I'm your therapist and all."

_It's not like I want to leave... _"Really? Awesome! How often?"

Arthur flushed, honestly surprised that the American seemed so happy about it. "Wh-whenver you arrange it... It's up to you." _Does he really want to see me...?_

"That's awesome! Then I'll be sure to see you all the time, Arthur." He grinned, face still flushed, but eyes sincere.

He could not recall another person in his entire history who had made him blush as much as this prat. "I'm... I'm looking forward to it," he said. And he meant it.

"Same here," Alfred said without a moment's hesitation, although his voice was a lot lower than before, almost a whisper. The Brit shivered, but he didn't know whether it was because of the cold weather, or Alfred's voice. "Well," he said, voice breaking Arthur out of his embarrassing reverie. "I guess I'll see you soon then."

"Yeah," he replied in the same breathy tone. "See you later then, Alfred..."

"Bye, Arthur," the younger man said, eyes flickering over the Brit's form, and then zooming back in on the impossibly green, green eyes that closed as a poignant smile decorated his lips. His mutated fish gawked at Alfred, one eye strangely wide, and the other covered by overgrown scales. It hovered in the water for a moment, staring at him, and then, as Arthur turned to leave, it swum in a shakey circle, it's torn fin making it wobble dangerously, and then resumed its stare contest with the American.

_"So, why'd ya choose that fish?"_

"Because... it needs a friend."

"Wait!" he shouted before thinking, before even realising what he was doing, and suddenly he had was out in the rain, the gentle downfall managing to soak him instantly.

Arthur turned, baffled, and said curiously (hopefully), "Yes?" He smiled, lips curved and eyes shining and cheeks flushed and he was turning, and Alfred didn't even have to think before he had grabbed the older man's wrist, clumsily pulled him against him, wrapped tightly around his slender waist, and maladroitly pressed his lips timidly against Arthur's. It wasn't particularly romantic, and it was probably the opposite of passionate; it was clumsy and inept but so sweet and so wonderful and they just didn't want it to end. But the requirement for oxygen eventually became apparent, and the shy but hungry lips slowed their movement, pausing in their dance, and excruciatingly slowly pulled apart. Blue stared down into green imploringly, and Arthur held the same shocked expression, eyes wide and hair messier than usual, lips parted and a bright flush on his cheeks. "A-Alfred..." he began, only for a warm finger to press itself to his lips to shush him.

Alfred grinned, uncertain, but steadfast. "Don't speak," he said, "Not a word. Don't ruin the moment."

And, despite how much he wanted to smack the idiot and tell him that should be his line, Arthur just shook his head and smiled again.

**O-o-O-o-O**

"You sure took your sweet time with Lover Boy," Gilbert mentioned, flashing the Brit a big, toothy grin as he shoved his key into the slot, and he kicked the pedals. "Sh'yeah!" he shouted when his engine revved.

Arthur shook his head at his friend's childish nature. "Don't call him that," he admonished.

The German made a show of rolling hsi eyes. "_Sorry_, Ice Princess," he said, and pressed down on the pedals, throwing a peace sign out at the others as he pulled out of the airport parking lot, but the cocksure grin soon left his face as they entered the highway. Arthur noticed, but didn't want to press his friend. He waited until the older man decided to speak, maintaining a calm disposition as he stared lethargically out of the windscreen and watched raindrops slip down the glass, mind drifting to more interesting things like sky blue eyes and sunshine blond hair...

He fisted his shirt by his heart and shut his eyes. _Don't betray me_, he thought. _Stop beating incessantly..._

"You saw it too, didn't you?" Gilbert muttered suddenly, and Arthur's eyes fluttered open to fix on his friend's hard face, pale and gaunt.

_He's scared. _"Saw what?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Arthur," the German snapped, not taking his eyes off of the road. The Brit wondered why, contemplating whether he was so seemingly focused and tense because he didn't want to crash, or if he was afraid that he'd lash out. Most likely the latter, seeing as the albino was such a dare devil under normal circumstances. "Ludwig," he mumbled tightly, brows furrowed together as his grip visibly clenched around the steering wheel. "You've seen how weird he's been acting, right?"

Arthur stared at his friend reproachfully, pondering and examining the deep frown marring his face and the teeth gnawing unconsciously at his lips. _Of course I've noticed. _"I suppose... Mind clarifying though?" _What are you thinking, Gilbert? Don't say that it's..._

"You're doing that psycho-therapist shit again, Arthur. I know what you're doing. Stop it. Seriously," Gilbert hissed, scowling at the car in front of him. "Damn it, the speed limit's not thirty here, you fucking moron!" he shouted, banging his fists on the wheel and grumbling curses to himself as he followed the car at what he felt was a slow speed. _Too _slow. He hated going slowly. Hated it.

"Calm down, Gilbert," the blond ordered, tone firm and commanding but also somehow complacement.

"How the _fuck_ can I be calm, Arthur?" Gilbert snapped, turning to glower furiously at the man, staring at him angrily as if he had committed some kind of sin. "What if he's... What if..."

"Let's not jump to conclusions," the Brit advised, although he was thinking the exact same thing as the other man. He lowered his fist from his shirt and sighed softly, looking down at his fish sadly, feeling his stress melt away into the bubbles the wonky little thing blew. "What should I call him?" he pondered out loud.

"Dude, it's a fucking fish. And it's a weird one at that. Look, its fin's screwed up, it has some freaky ass stare like the one Stan Marsh's grandmother bought him that one episode, and it can hardly swim," he rambled, just letting off some steam. He decided to watch some more South Park when they got home. He just wanted to take his mind off of... off of... Growling, he muttered, "Why'd you pick the loser fish anyway? I have a suggestion: you can call it fucking Frankenstein!" he ranted, and then slammed down on the breaks, letting out a roar of pure annoyance. Rolling down the window, he leaned out and screamed, "Get your ass in gear, you retarded fucking _jackass_! Yeah, I'm talkin' to you! Don't roll up your window! Fucking _fag_, _move_ your _ass_ before I come over there and punch you in the fucking _face_!"

Arthur just tuned his emotional friend out, and instead opted to stare down at his fish, who gaped at him curiously, swimming awkwardly away from the infuriated German. Uncertain, the Brit hugged the plastic container closer and smiled at the odd little fish weakly. "It's okay," he mouthed to it, not wanting to be made fun of by his friend, especially with his currently sparked temper. "He won't hurt you." The fish blinked its one good eye at him before swimming in an uncoordinated manner. Arthur smiled at it. _Allen_**(1)**, his mind suddenly decided. _I'll look after you, Allen._

**O-o-O-o-O**

_Ring, ring._

Ring, ring.

Ring, ring.

Ring, ring.

Click.

A heavy breath.

Silence.

More breathing. And then, "He has arrived."

There was a pause. A long, muted pause. A sadistic, inhuman, but disturbingly childlike smile blossumed on a pale face. He put the phone back down, and bounced in his seat, giggling and producing a twisted infantile sound, as he slapped his hands like a placated, excitable kid. "Oh, wonderful," he cried, violet eyes wide open and shimmering with delight. "Toris, you know what this means!" he declared, beaming sweetly.

The brunet almost gagged at how innocent he looked. _You didn't used to be like this, Ivan_, he thought despondently, but nodded in response to the Russian's words. He knew what would happen if he didn't.

Not phased by his subordinate's lack of enthusiasm, Ivan's smile grew. "Ah, I can't wait to see him again," he confessed, voice that of a dreamy child's. "The twisted expression of agony on his pale face as blood, his, hers, mine, all mingled together... It was beautiful, don't you think, Toris?"

_It's disgusting. I want to be sick. _"Yes, Ivan," he murmured subserviently, dabbing disinfectant on a gash that decorated Raivis's forehead, frowning at the sharp flinch he received for his efforts. _I hope he doesn't get a concussion_, he thought nervously.

"I'm so glad Yaketerina managed to get these wonderful photographs for me!" Ivan said brightly, licking his lips and grabbing at the pictures before him needily. "He tries so hard to conceal his feelings, but they shine through so obviously in his beautifully _disgusting_ eyes. How I hate to love his eyes. Or is it the other way around?" He chuckled. "I don't know, but I would like very much to tear them out and hang them on my mantle piece, or use them as a necklace!"

Toris squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed thickly, inwardly berating himself for the bile rising up in his throat. He tried not to let his hand shake as he continuously wiped at the cut almost unseeingly. _Black, white and red_, he thought, and then felt his chin being yanked up forcefully, grimacing as his neck made a cracking sound. Without hesitation, he met Ivan's eyes. _And violet... Disgusting violet. I hate that colour._

"Honestly, Toris," the revolting voice drawled, still sickeningly sweet. _Deceptively sweet_, Toris's mind corrected when he felt nails digging into his skin. He held back a wince. "Raivis is going to make a mess, dripping blood onto my lovely black carpet. Please, remove him from here." He pulled his hand back, and the brunet held back the urge to rub at his chin, instead opting to look up at the Russian, who was now examining his hand as if something disgusting was on it. He stared silently for a long moment, during which Toris remained tense, waiting for the man to lash out. But he didn't. He just curled his fingers into a tight fist, and then opened them again, revealing a perfect, pristine paper crane.

"Magic," Toris breathed, recalling how Ivan always used to perform magic for him. That was how they had first met... well, that's what he thought. He could recall only complete quiet, freezing snow, and paper cranes... What? He could feel pain... What was...? Green eyes blinked, and he saw Ivan's outstretched hand, and then felt excruciating pain piercing his face. _H-he punched me_, he realised, and moved to sit back up again, then noticing that he had slammed into a wall. _M-my head... It hurts..._

"Don't be stupid, Toris," the Russian whispered, voice now a low baritone, a far cry from his previous faux kind demeanour. "Magic isn't real."

Toris's eyes widened, and he almost dropped the disinfectant. _He... No, he can't say that..._

Hollow violet eyes regarded him momentarily, and then curved up into a closed-eyed smile. "Now, get Raivis out of here. He will dirty my carpets. Oh! And please give my sisters a call, and tell them what a good job they did." He beamed at the aching brunet, who struggled to pull Raivis's arm over his shoulders, and he staggered to the door, grimacing as he pulled the heavy thing open with one arm. "Toris?"

A pause. "Mr. Braginski?"

"Look at me."

Toris's breath stilled for a moment. Oh, how he hated this. Why did he have to have green eyes? And yet, he couldn't refuse Ivan...

"Disgusting. Beautiful." A tongue whipped out and licked at his lips. "_Revolting_."

He took that as his cue to leave, and he tried not to look to eager as he limped out of the room, gently shutting the door behind him with an inaudible _click_. He stumbled down the hall, face blank and mind shut down, working on auto pilot until he reached their shared quarters. He carefully placed the fifteen year old on his bed, and automatically fell to his knees to grab at the first aid kit beneath his bed. He didn't need to pay attention as he tended to his young friend, years of practiced having imprinted instructions into his mind.

When he had finally finished covering the gash on his friend's forehead, he stared at the younger man. Eyes wide and unblinking, he just stared. Watched. Watched as the pale boy trmbled in his sleep, as his face contorted painfully, as he fisted the sheets and whimpered almost inaudibly.

"Sleep well, Raivis," he whispered hoarsely.

He felt sick.

"Pleasant dreams."

**O-o-O-o-O**

"We're finally home," Gilbert said, his blatant lack of enthusiasm dampening Arthur's momentary comforted feeling. He fidgeted in the doorway, but followed his friend in, kicking off his shoes near the entrance (due to Kiku's influence; he spent far too much time with that guy) and hanging his coat up on the free hook. It was partially broken and hung off-kilter, due to a party that Gilbert had once hosted for his best friend, Elizaveta. People got drunk, shit happened, and stuff broke. Those were the words the German had used to explain it to him when he had first asked, and Arthur had rolled his eyes and chuckled.

_I always pick the faulty things_, he thought, smiling to himself bitterly. Shaking his head, as if physically banishing his thoughts, he dragged his suitcase into the room and placed it beside Gilbert's, but held onto Allen. "We are," he finally replied, although the delay in his response was evident.

"Have a beer," the German muttered, tossing a can to him as he cracked open his own and chugged it back immediately.

Arthur fumbled for a moment, disorientated and surprised, but finally managed to cling onto the can in one hand, and then carefully lowered Allen onto the table that lay before the sofa. Allen blinked at him, stupefied, and the Englishman stared right back, mimicking his blank expression and not acknowledging the cool feeling of the cold drink prickling his skin.

"Well? If you're not gonna drink it, don't waste it. Give it here," the albino muttered, snatching his can off of him and opening it. He tilted his head at Arthur, holding the can up to the shorter man's face. "You want it or not then, Blondie?"

"I'm not thirsty," Arthur lied easily, waving his hand as he looked down at his sock-clad feet, and then back at Allen. "You have it."

A pause. And then, "You're not doing that girl thing, are you? You know, like, when a chick says she don't want chips**(2)** and then snatches 'em off of the guy anyway?"

The Brit sighed, exasperated, and shook his head. Normally, he'd screech at the man, but he was too bloody tired at present. "No," he replied simply, rubbing his arms unconsciously and wondering why he felt as if something was missing. "I am not doing _that girl thing_," he repeated, raising his hands to mimick air quotations.

"...Are you sure? 'Cause I don't think I can put up with-"

"I'm sure, Gilbert," Arthur sighed. "Please, take it..." _and stop talking. It's too loud. And yet, not loud enough..._

"Yo, quit zoning out. It's pretty weird. And creepy." Gilbert paused, gazing down at his friend thoughtfully, brows still furrowed thoughtfully. "Arthur..."

"Gilbert?" the Englishman replied softly, trying to read the other man's eyes.

"You don't think that Ludwig is... that he's..."

_Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't say it. I can't lie to you when I'm looking in your eyes like this. Don't ask me, Gilbert._

"...You know what? Forget it. You look like shit, so go sleep. 'Sides, you got work tomorrow, haven't you?" He clenched his hand into a fist and crushed the can, and then tossed it into the overfilled bin that he hadn't bothered to toss out before their holiday. "Go to sleep, Arthur," he said, tone slightly less harsh now, and he fell back onto the sofa, putting an arm over his face and sighing. "I'm gonna stay and talk to... What's your fishes name?" He moved his arm, peering up at his friend.

"Allen," Arthur replied. Before Gilbert could speak, he said, "You should get some sleep too. You're going to be job searching again tomorrow. So, get your lazy arse off of the bloody sofa and go to bed." He folded his arms, glaring down at the German in what he hoped was a threatening stare.

"Dude. Mum. Me and Al are just gonna drink beer and chill."

"You're not tainting Allen!" Arthur cried, glare deepening, but he flatered when the German's lips twitched, and blinked in confusion when the albino stood and grinned at him.

"Okay, Art. Chill. I'll go to bed, so take it easy," he said, grin softening slightly. _Thank you for cheering me up._

"If you aren't washed up and in bed in ten minutes, I swear I'll ground you and confiscate your beer." _It's what friends are for._

"Evil! I'm going, I'm going!"

Arthur watched with a look of mock irritation as Gilbert dashed into the bathroom desperately and slammed the door, and then he let himself let go. He dropped his arms by his side and stared blankly at the door. He reached for his phone in his pocket, having felt it vibrate a while ago. Flicking it open, it read: _You have three missed calls. _Flicking through, he saw _Inbox (5)_, and opened it.

_To: Arthur  
From: Francis  
Subject: Call me  
Call me later, I need to talk to you. x_

At this time? Maybe he'd ring him tomorrow morning. Nonetheless, Arthur wrote back with a hasty apology and a promise of speaking to him tomorrow. _Only Francis would sign it with a fucking kiss. Jesus... _After a long pause, he added an _x_ to the end of his message too.__

To: Arthur  
From: Alfred  
Subject: =D Arthurrr  
Hope you got home safe, I'll see you tmoz; arranged appointment. Sleep well, Art. :)

Despite himself, he felt his lips twitched. "Idiot," he breathed, writing, _It's 'tomorrow,' idiot. I got home safely, thank you. I'm assuming you did also? You sleep well too. Take care. See you tomorrow. _He bit his lip, mentally debating with himself as to whether or not he should sign his text with an _x_. He wrote it, deleted it, wrote it again, and then deleted it. _No, he'll think it's weird_, he thought, and sent is as it was.

_To: Arthur  
From: Kiku  
Subject: Well wishes  
Hello, Arthur-san. I trust you got home safely, despite Gilbert-san's driving skills. Your appointment with Alfred-san tomorrow is at 9:30am. Please take care of yourself._

Smiling, Arthur replied with a brief thank you and returned his well wishes, inwardly groaning at the early start. Why did Alfred pick such an early time? Honestly...

_To: Arthur  
From: Tino  
Subject: Peter  
Hello, Mr. Kirkland. I heard you were back today, and Peter really wants to see you. I hope tomorrow is okay, as he doesn't have school tomorrow and I'm at work. I'll drop him off at your office at about 11. Bye._

The prospect of seeing Peter again was exciting, and Arthur did miss the little brat. But that was only an hour and a half after Alfred's appointment... _I guess it'll be okay. Appointments only usually last up to an hour anyway_, he thought, responding in the affirmative and assuring Tino that he would be there to see Peter. _I need to give him something anyway... _he thought, and then opened his last message curiously, blinking and holding it up to his ear when he realised it was a voicemail.

_"...ha...ha...ha..."_

He frowned deeply at the heavy breathing, thinking it was a prank call, and prepared to hang up. Then, they spoke.

_"We're glad you're home, Pretty Eyes... We'll see you soon... heehee..."_

The line went dead.

He dropped his phone.__

**O-o-O-o-O**

_**Axis Powers Hetalia **_**belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

(1) The name Allen means _**precious**_**. It's of Gaelic origin, and is now most commonly used in America and England. I chose that spelling rather than All**_**a**_**n as the latter is Scottish, and the fish is important in relation to Arthur's (England) character.  
This fish is almost like a self-insert. Please don't say he's like a Marty-Stu. D: XD Awesome, I'm a goldfish. ;D How badass am I?  
Just kidding. XD  
(2) Chips = fries. I didn't mean crisps. Which are what Americans call chips. Chips are 'fries,' and 'chips' are crisps. ...Americans confuse me... By the way, people from other country. You know **_**Lays**_** crisps? We're the only ones who call them something different. :) Find out and win a sense of personal achievemment. lol.**

Anyway, this would have been uploaded _**three bloody days ago**_** if it weren't for the fact that my laptop and I hate a little spat and it thought, 'Fine, as soon as you turn me off, I'm deleting all the stuff you did today such as revision notes, fanfiction and the new story you started. So HA. Take that, fucker.' But now all is forgiven and I have finally rewrote it, and honestly? It's actually a lot better than the original version of this chapter, although the original did have a Scrubs reference... :c Oh well. Additionally, this chapter also previously went ahead into the next scene in which Alfred has his first psycho-therapy session with Arthur, and Arthur spends quality time with Peter only to conveniently run into Alfred, and such forth~ but I guess that'll be in the next chapter now. XD; Don't worry, I've already started it... should be up soon hopefully.**

On another note, I am currently being tortured. Japan's (MerryxMaking) been yandere-ing me for ages now, but he's still really scary... Belarus turned yandere on me last night after I poked him/her (our Belarus is a guy from a biological point of view)... Even America (Suzume-Chiyu) is going yandere on me - _**with a bloody scalpel**_**! What happened to being a hero? TT_TT I can't deal with so many yanderes! SOS. My mind. It's breaking. ): Speaking of which, lots of psychological trauma and stuff is coming up soon, and Arthur's brothers will be making an entrance. You may wish to cut yourself...**

a piece of chocolate cake.

Finally (and I will soon stop babbling nonsense), lots of you have been telling me about how Alfred sounds kind of un-American. XD; I am English and, whilst I do know American terms (thanks to The Simpsons. Although, like Hugh Laurie, I have no bloody idea what's up with their slang... seriously, ba-donka-donk? What the hell, guys? XD), I never use them in real life and so I slip up (admittedly a lot) when writing. I may go back and edit American terms and such into this later, but for now please bear with my Englishness. :( But thank you to everyone who has thus far told me I'm a silly Brit and don't speak American. Really. /sarcasm.  
Nah, just kidding. I appreciate your tips and stuff, everyone. Thank you for reviewing so much, or even just reading. It means a lot. ^^  
But ignore my sappiness. -_**makes face**_**-**

Ack. I can't remember what I wrote in my author's comments before this was formerly deleted. :s Gar. Whatever, screw it. But everyone, please tell America that he's being very un-heroic by threatening me with scalpels.

Also, keep smiling. :)  
I'm trying to be more optimistic and nice because I'm very anti-social and horrible. XD; And my friends are unhappy at the moment, and I don't like it. So, everyone keep smiling and keep laughing because, although terrible things happen, there is always someone who cares about you. Smile for them, even when the world wants to drag you down. :) And I'm going to stop because I sound like I should be in a bloody fucking shoujo manga... Fuck that.

_**Samishii darou kedo ganbatte ne, minna!**_

**/(=^-^=)/**

\(=^-^=)\

b(=^w^=)b

...I feel so stupid for that... not to mention completely blooming OOC... -_**twitches**_**-**

Whatever. XD; Later, everyone. Take care. :)


	30. Watashi o mite!

**I am terribly sorry for the prolonged wait for this new installment. I could list reasons but they just sound like excuses. Um... I began this story at a happier time. Since it's progressed, my writing has improved but life hasn't. In fact, a lot of things have been going wrong and I don't think anything will be the same again. But I have found one person who, despite all of our own problems, manages to make me see the light in everything. Part of me wants to discontinue this story, but another part doesn't. Whilst I think it's fairly disappointing and a bit too cliché, I've improved a lot as I've gone through this fic. Plus I know how it is to start a story and realise that the author's not updated in ages and you're like **_**FFFFUUUUUUUUU-**_

**Anyway... this story is going to go in an almost completely different direction that I had first intended. Previous hints still connect so there **_**shouldn't**_** be plot holes, but I just mean that it'll be... eh, well, you'll see the ending for yourself soon enough. There will probably be approximately three more chapters. I might write a sequel, since this was first intended to be a prequel to something else anyway. So then, we'll see where it goes, ne?**

**Without further ado, the long-awaited chapter I've lost count.**

**O-o-O-o-O**

There was a faint buzzing sound that filled his ears, seeming to get louder and louder to prevent him from getting some much needed rest. Moaning in complaint, he rolled over, slinging his arm over the man that should have been beside him, only to falter when he felt nothing but cold sheets. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open and he blinked curiously down at the empty space beside him. That was odd, he thought. Ludwig had gone to bed with him...

Pushing off the sheets, Feliciano swung his legs over the side of the bed and scuttled out, grabbing a pair of boxers and slipping them on before slinking out of the bedroom. Blinking as his eyes adjusted to the dimly lit hallway, he padded along the rug until he reached the living room, the light swimming out from there. Tilting his head curiously, he jostled the knob quietly but froze when he heard Ludwig's voice, cold and harsh and just not right.

"Yes, I understand," he heard the man hiss. There was a small pause, and then, "How do you expect me to...?" he began, but was probably cut off by someone at his surprised grunt followed by a tense silence. "Wh-what?"

The Italian frowned, biting his lip as he pressed himself further against the door. Ludwig didn't usually stutter. What was going on? Who was he talking to?

"But why _him_? Why Arthur?"

_Arthur...?_ Feliciano thought, teeth clamping down harder on his lip as he recalled the irate blond man. Ludwig worked with him, didn't he?

"That... He what? No, he..."

Another pause, longer this time. Much longer. Feliciano shuddered at the cool temperature in the house and closed his eyes to ward off any fear as he listened in on what was obviously a conversation he wasn't supposed to hear. He felt his heart rate accelerate as the silence dragged on and his over active imagination sped up. Intricate scenarios occurred in his mind like a play that you knew would end in tragedy, the dramatic music speeding up along with the _thump thump thump_ of your heart until suddenly, all is silent.

"I understand," Ludwig said, voice quiet but hard as rock, and the Italian bit back a whimper at the sound of his impending tone. "I will make it easier. Yes, I will go through with it." Silence again for a moment, and then, "I know how to manipulate people. Do not worry, he shall be yours..."

Feliciano stepped away from the door, suddenly icy cold and shaking as he walked backwards, letting out a muffled noise as he collided with the wall behind him. There was silence from the room Ludwig was in and the brunet feared that the German would storm out of the room and... and do something. What, he didn't know, because the blond had always been kind beneath his irritable exterior. And yet, Feliciano knew the man's past...

But moments passed and the door did not open. Instead, the Italian could hear Ludwig murmur, "No, there was no one there. It was just an animal outside... Yes. Yes, I remember why I'm doing this... You have to keep up your side of the deal too though. You cannot hurt Feliciano or Gilbert. I have connections, you know that."

_Connections...? Cannot hurt me or Gilbert? What...? _Feliciano thought, unable to process the whole thing. He wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but he did know some things. What he couldn't understand was... was just all of this! Who was Ludwig talking to? Why were he and Gilbert mentioned? What did they want with Arthur?

"Yes, I will begin immediately in the morning. Mm... Goodbye, Ivan."

_Ivan...? _he wondered, brows furrowing in a mixture of several emotions; worry, fear, bewilderment and a hint of jealousy. He didn't know what was going on and couldn't help but think of various possibilities. But all of those evaporated when he heard a loud bang against the wall. He covered his mouth to prevent himself from yelping and stared with wide eyes at the door, edgy and nervous again. There was silence for a few seconds before he heard a shaky sigh. He longed to peel open the door and just hug his German, but he feared the concequences. Instead, he quietly crept back to their bed and lied down, clutching his pillow and clenching his eyes shut as his heart continued to thump incessantly.

It was a long while later that Ludwig returned to bed, arms wrapping protectively around Feliciano, as he buried his face in the Italian's shoulder whispering, "Ich liebe dich. I must protect you..."

He tried hard not to cry.

**O-o-O-o-O**

He woke up out of breath and sweating, but unable to scream. He glanced around fearfully, scanning every inch of the room before deflating and realising where he was. Heaving a sigh in between his gasps for breath, he collapsed back, grimacing when he felt the sweat drenching his pillow. And suddenly he could feel the heat and he kicked off his blankets and rubbed his forehead, drenched in perspiration. Slipping out of bed, rubbed his sweaty palms on his boxers and glanced up, seeing the light filtering in from beneath the door. The albino stood, glancing out of the window and frowning softly. He was met with a grey blue sky and heavy dark clouds looming ominioulsy above.

He shuffled over to the door and pulled it open, a lot quieter than he usually would have, and blinked, holding back curses when light invaded his vision and momentarily blinded him. When the brightness faded and colour returned, he found himself staring at a blond clutching a fish tank and clutching his eyes shut. Frowning, he moved to approach the Brit, pausing when he almost stepped on something. Glancing down, he raised an eyebrow at the sight of Arthur's phone. He moved to pick it up, jumping in surprise when a hoarse voice snapped, "Don't touch it!"

Blinking, his crimson eyes rose to meet wide, horrified, _terrified_ green ones and he found himself swallowing, fear building up inside of him. "Arthur...?" he mumbled, moving forward slowly and taking a seat beside his friend, relieved that he didn't react violently. "What happened?" he asked, not reaching out in fear that the man would try to fight.

The blond shook his head, closing his eyes again as Allen swam closer, accidentally bumping his head on the glass. Green eyes fluttered open and Arthur smiled ruefully at his fish. "Don't do that, Allen," he murmured. "You'll hurt yourself..."

Gilbert found himself looking away, licking his lips and blinking rapidly as his eyes stung. That stupid fish was reminding him of his little yellow bird... Brows furrowing, he clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms as he recalled the innocent chick, crimson blood staining his pretty feathers.

"Gilbert," Arthur said softly, dragging his downcast eyes up to meet Gilbert's trepidatious ones.

"Yeah?" he muttered, staring into the depths of guarded green.

A long, tense silence enveloped them and the unspoken conversations, questions and memories hung over their heads, the demons of their pasts seeming to taunt them as they sat, fighting to find the words, but finding it impossible. Feelings of helplessness and fury and fear reminded them of the past when they couldn't feel anything else, and the atmosphere was just getting too much, too heavy, and it was almost getting harder to breathe-

"It's nothing," Arthur said, voice somehow breathless as if he'd been running or screaming, and the German nodded stiffly, trying to ignore the ominous laughter echoing in his head.

"Right," he said, and coughed to clear his throat and ease the tension. "So, uh... want a beer?"

**O-o-O-o-O**

"It's raining again..." Kiku observed, monochromatic eyes staring listlessly out of the windows before the reception desk. The rain pelted down furiously against the glass, and it looked almost like a ruptured river had clashed with the city; puddles were inches deep, cars had to take different routes, and certain roads were blocked off. The Japanese man felt a strange sense of deja vú as a certain blond yanked the door open and staggered in, hair plastered to his face.

"Sorry I'm late," Arthur apologised as he shut the door behind him and shook his head, droplets of water flying everywhere as he did so. Kiku smiled slightly at the animalistic gesture but masked it when his friend looked up at him.

"It's all right," he replied, "We have some terrible weather today, don't we, Arthur-kun?" He fingered the camera beneath his desk, ready to whip it out at any second. Maybe he could convince the Brit to shake his head again, and then he could add kitty ears and remove the clothes on Photoshop...

"Horrendous," Arthur agreed, scrunching his face up in disapproval as he glanced back out the windows at the heavy rainfall.

Kiku blinked slowly, scrutinising his friend. He seemed more downcast than usual rather than antagonistic, as if his mind was faraway and his thoughts were dragging him away from earth. "Arthur-kun," he said softly, gently drawing the man from his mysterious reverie. "Are you feeling all right?"

The Englishman opened his mouth to respond, and then glanced away. "I..." he began, voice trembling slightly as he nervously fingered the edge of his soaked blazer and then yelped when he dropped his briefcase. Mumbling profanities and stuttering apologies, he fumbled for it and accidentally let it slip through his fingers again. "Sorry, sorry..." he murmured, blushing brightly as he moved to grab some papers that had escaped, groaning when he noticed that they had fallen in a small puddle he had formed. He grabbed one and held it up, sighing ruefully at the unintelligible words as they ran down the page in disarray.

And then there was a presence at his side and the wet papers were all scooped up hastily and a large hand imposed itself in his line of sight. He looked up in surprise and then quickly grabbed his briefcase as he reluctantly took the offered hand and stood. He forced a sheepish smile as he reached for the papers with a small, "Thank you, Ludwig..."

But then the other man yanked the papers away. "They're ruined," he muttered with a firm, decisive nod. "You can't use these for work. I'll get new ones printed for you. Please go to your office now, since your client will be here soon."

Arthur blinked at the abrupt dismissal and tightened his hold on his briefcase. "Er... all right," he replied uncertainly, frowning in confusion. "I'm sure I could decipher those, though. They aren't too bad, and I..."

"No, no," the German replied with a stoney glare, taking a step back with the papers tucked tightly under his arm. "It would be best if I made new copies. Please get to work... Arthur." With that, he nodded again, and swerved around tersely, marching up the stairs to his office.

The Brit stared after him, bewildered by the man's odd behaviour, and then turned to Kiku inquisitively. "There seems to be something wrong with Ludwig," he muttered, frowning deeply. "Did you notice how tense he was? And he paused before saying my name..."

Kiku's eyes moved slowly from the now empty staircase back to the damp blond standing in the middle of the foyer. He smiled, blank and hollow and more suspicious than friendly. "Curiosity killed the cat," he murmured eerily, "But satisfaction brought it back."

**O-o-O-o-O**

_It was all blurring together. Reds, blues, greens, purples, in a marred array of pinwheels and gun shots. Red splattered across the floor before him and he lifted his hands to see the same colour decorating them. He staggered back, horrified, and then looked back up, feeling sick at the sight before him. A pale, bruised and battered body crawled towards him, a large, gaping hole in his chest and a heart held in his hand. As it pulsated, his eyes dimmed, and he shuddered violently._

_"Ar...thur..." he began, horrified and more than a little terrified. He wanted to turn and run, but he felt stuck to the spot he was in, forced to watch the broken shell slither shakily in his direction. "What...?"_

"My heart... It..." the man began, only to cough, softly at first, and then it grew more violent. It sounded painful, as if he were being torn apart inside. As thick blood slipped from out his lips and seeped out from the hole in his chest, he smiled. "It beats only for you... so, take it..."

_Alfred felt himself shaking turmultuously, wanting to throw up and cry and cling to someone for comfort all at once. What was going on? "A-Arthur, please... please go back to normal... Y-you can shout at me and call me an idiot! O-or you can kiss me! Just... just stop... You're scaring me," he pleaded fearfully, feeling his eyes sting and not bothering to suppress the tears that built up in them._

_"But... don't you want to share your heart with me too... Alfred...?" Arthur asked, sounding almost hurt somehow._

_Alfred grabbed his head and let out a sob. "What are you talking about, Arthur? Th-there... This isn't... I-I'll share my heart with you, but... not this way... Please stop it!"_

_Dull green eyes stared back at him listlessly. "So, you don't love me..."_

His eyes shot open, wide and bewildered and scared. He stared through vision blurred with tears and tried to think of something to say to make everything okay, but he was neither eloquent nor articulate, and so he just settled and improvising. "Th-that is... Even... Even if I do feel that way or not, I still... I really care about you, Arthur, and you doing this... It makes me sad, because I..." He what...? He didn't even know what he was saying! Why was this so hard? "Because I care about you! And I mean you! Not whatever this is! You don't crawl or give up your pride by giving yourself to someone... This isn't you, Arthur...!"

_"But this is me," the broken Brit replied softly, smiling ruefully up at Alfred. "Or at least, this is a part of me... that I can never rid myself of..." He tilted his head curiously, appearing honestly doubtful and lost. "Could you ever bring yourself to love that part of me too...?"_

_All the colours darkened suddenly, and Alfred felt himself becoming blind. "Arthur?" he called worriedly, reaching out and gasping when a hand grasped his, and green eyes smiled at him._

_"It's okay, Alfred... I'll protect you."_

He couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe. He felt as if his lungs were obstructed and no air could get into his lungs, and oh, God, he was suffocating-!

"Alfred! Al, wake up!" someone shouted urgently, and he only vaguely heard it, but he noticed the familiarity in the voice and moved towards it. "Wake _up_, Alfred!" it ordered again, and suddenly he felt freezing. With a yelp of shock, he shot up, eyes open wide and urgently scanning the room and...

"It's not dark," he breathed, relieved beyond belief, and then his eyes snapped up to where the voice came from. "Art-" he began, cutting himself off quickly when something akin to his reflection stared back in concern. "Matthew," he breathed, collapsing back against the pillows with a sigh of both relief and something akin to disappointment.

"You were... You were crying in your sleep," his brother said, torn between embarrassment and worry. "You said..." He paused as Alfred shifted, sitting back up properly to nervously glance him in the eyes. "You said his name."

_"Arthur...!"_

**O-o-O-o-O**

"Elizabeth," Arthur murmured forlornly, tracing a finger gently over the smiling face in the half-burnt photograph he kept in his wallet. "I'll bring Peter to visit you later, okay?" He almost smiled, but stopped himself, and let out a slightly deranged sounding laugh, as if responding to something the picture had said. "Sorry," he breathed, eyes slipping closed as he retracted his hand from her proud face. "I don't even remember, and so I shouldn't really..." He trailed off, shaking his head sadly, before jumping up from his seat when the door flew open.

"Uh..." The man who had entered flicked his wet hair out of his face and grinned a crooked grin. "Sorry," he apologised sheepishly, "The door was stuck, so I sorta... kicked it." He dropped his hands to his side and his awkward grin dissolved into a shy smile. "Hiya, Arthur."

"Idiot," Arthur replied, lips twitching despite himself. To hide it, he turned and pretended to search for something. "Hi, Alfred." He paused in rifling through unseen documents and flushed, turning around again. "Oh, sorry. Please, take a seat," he offered, coughing into his fist and berating himself on his lack of manners and sudden clumsy attitude.

But Alfred seemed unperturbed by his behaviour (if slightly amused and reassured), and just plopped himself down in the chair directly before Arthur's desk, opting for the more appropriate chair rather than the brightly coloured bean bag beside it. The Brit was slightly surprised, but was more shocked that he wasn't entirely astonished by the other man's decision to choose the less immature chair. He blinked in surprise when the American tilted his head, and flushed upon the realisation that he had been staring at him.

"So, what'll we be doing today? You gonna show me ink stains and ask what I see? 'Cause I only see ink stains when I look at those things," Alfred babbled, laughing nervously and wringing his hands in his lap as he glanced around the room. "This isn't like a boring old office. I imagined white walls, a dirty carpet, blank furniture and a dying plant," he said, and then grinned sheepishly again. "But it's pretty colourful, especially for someone like you. I mean, you just seem like the proper type of person who likes order and colour codes and stuff..." He trailed off, and then his face heated up slightly. "Sorry, babbling."

"It's all right," Arthur replied, also put to ease slightly because of the other's nervousness. "And no, I'm not going to ask you to look at those unless you want to," he said, chuckling slightly as he seated himself on his side of the desk, meeting the American's bright blue eyes and realising how much he'd missed them. _Fool_, his mind screamed, _It's hardly been a long time since you last saw him! Stop sounding like a lovestruck school girl and act professional!_

Alfred regarded him intensely, a concentrated intrigue glimmering within the conflicting blue, and Arthur was torn between feeling uncomfortable and enthralled. The American was occasionally immature, but he was just a playful and humorous kind of person, and Arthur found himself attracted to his admittedly controversial personality. Sure, he could see through Alfred a lot of the time, but not entirely just due to his profession. He felt he could empathise with the pragmatic man, even if their pasts were drastically diverse.

"You're a strange guy, Arthur," the younger man suddenly said, snapping the Brit out of his inner monologue.

Arthur blinked at him and flushed slightly, frowning slightly. "In what way?" he asked, usually able to keep a straight face when he felt offended by his clients. With Alfred, it felt more personal somehow. But he felt any irritation ebb away at the smile he was awarded with, and the throaty chuckle the younger man gave in response to his tone.

"It's a good thing," Alfred reassurred him. "I don't like most people," he explained, before his lips pursed and his face twisted slightly, looking conflicted.

"You don't seem too sure about that," Arthur responded carefully, keeping his eyes focused upon Alfred's rather than on the notepad sitting innocently on his desk.

"I..." the American began, and then sighed in frustration, running his hand through his hair. Arthur observed that the cowlick sitting at the top of his head stubbornly remained in its original position, arrogantly defying gravity. But the other didn't seem arrogant at all, at least not at this moment. He seemed... vulnerable. Hopeless. "Well, I sorta... I judge people," he said, looking aggravated with himself for phrasing it so inarticulately. "Like..." he tried again, feeling as if his explanation wasn't enough. "I'm not pessimistic, I'm just realistic, but I can't see the world getting better, even if we try. I'm not a sociopath, but sometimes I feel like I don't really care about society as a whole. I don't believe in revenge, but my idea of justice is comparable to it..." He trailed off, eyes downcast and full of confliction, before he raised his head to meet Arthur's gaze, surprised by the lack of pity.

"Even if I reassure you, you won't believe me, isn't that right?" the Brit murmured, a knowing smile decorating his features, and Alfred wondered if it was practiced or if he was just annoyingly good at reading people. _Or maybe just me. _He flushed in shame as his heart palpitated at the fleeting thought, deciding against voicing it. "So I shan't try to convince you, even if what I believe is true. It doesn't make a difference if you don't want to believe it."

The younger man raised his gaze at that. "Don't... _want_ to believe it...?" He frowned, lines lightly creasing his forehead. "Why wouldn't I wanna believe I'm sane?"

Arthur chuckled. "We all have varying levels of sanity, but anyone who's interesting must be at least the slightest bit insane." He levelled Alfred with a curious look. "What do you think of yourself, Alfred?"

Sky-blue eyes, the colour of freedom and liberty, fluttered and flickered about the room as he considered the question. _What do I think of myself...?_ His brows drew together and he pursed his lips. _Sometimes I think I'm a well-rounded guy... I can do a lot of things I set my mind to and I'm not really terrible at anything. Except for maybe Brit-speak and pretending to be interested in long-winded stories with no purpose. But sometimes... I also think I'm the worst type of person._ He was staring out of the window now, eyes fixated upon drifting grey clouds as his thoughts reigned his mind like a storm. Emerald eyes scrutinised him, but he remained unaware, lost in the staircases of his mind. _I lose my temper and say stuff I don't mean, or I choose not to say anything at all. I'm a hypocrite; I say I want the world to uphold justice and yet I often don't do it myself. I get angry so easily and I'm so damn prejudiced even though I support individual rights. I can't help but be somewhat disgusted by certain kinds of people, and yet... _Arthur's face flashed through his mind, smiling at him, their hands intertwined and holding on tightly, and suddenly he found himself looking at the Brit.

"I don't know," he breathed truthfully, only realising he'd said it after it slipped past his lips. He scanned patient green eyes pleadingly, clenching his fists in his lap and frowning anxiously. "I... I don't know."

"I think I'm the opposite of you," Arthur murmured, only slightly surprised that Alfred was paying such close attention to his words. "I know what I think of myself, and yet I can't determine who I am. Besides," he said, tone oddly soft, and the American wondered why such a secretive, brooding man could look so warm. "Our thoughts and interpretations need not determine who we are. Referencing Ophelia, 'We know who we are, but know not what we may be'."

"Didn't Ophelia kill herself?" the younger man blurted out before wincing, but there was no use apologising now.

"You know, I don't think she initially intended to," the Englishman replied, humming thoughtfully. "It depicted her reaching out for something and then the ground breaking beneath her. Gertrude also said how she seemed not to possess the will to be fearful about it." He tilted his head and gazed into Alfred's eyes. _I like it when you look only at me. Even though you seem to be able to read me and it makes me feel vulnerable, I like it, because I want you to see only me. _The American swallowed nervously, thanking whatever god that may or may not exist that Arthur couldn't read minds. _I sound so... _"Perhaps... Perhaps she fell accidentally and simply didn't have the incentive to save herself." His smile as poignant and his eyes full of indecipherable feelings that left the American contemplative and breathless. "Even if it's possible to save yourself... Is it so terrible to want someone else to save you for once?"

"No," Alfred whispered. "No, it's not."

**x.**

"We're done already?"

Arthur looked up from his documents, amusement flickering in his green depths. "Time flies when you're having fun," he muttered with a small smirk, turning to slip the papers into his briefcase. "I'll see you again though. When you make your next appointment."

"Yeah," Alfred mumbled in agreement, feeling disappointed despite himself. _So I can see you whenever I want... but I don't want you to think that I need you. _"So... I guess it's..."

"You don't have to say goodbye." The Englishman slipped his long jacket on, pushing the sleeves up slightly and then peering up at Alfred.

He blinked. "Uh..." He flushed slightly, rubbing the back of his neck, abashed. "Then, uh... I'll catch you later?"

Arthur's lips twitched, but he forced them into a frown before the American could notice. "Quite. Yes, I'll see you soon."

Slightly put off by the dismissive response, Alfred stuck his hands in his pockets and swerved around, prepared to leave abruptly, but he stopped at the sound of the older man's voice reaching his ears.

"But... I'm going to be seeing my son today. I have another hour or so before I have to meet him. So... er... what I'm saying is... would... would you..."

Taking pity on the stuttering Brit, Alfred turned and flashed a blinding smile. "Let's go get a coffee," he offered.

Arthur hid his smile behind his gloved hand. "Make it tea and you're on."

**x.**

_It feels strange knowing how insignificant we are_, thought Arthur, cupping his tea and blowing into it softly, hoping to cool it down. He glanced back out the window, revelling the momentary silence as Alfred waited for his coffee. People clad in similar attire - business suits, coats, high heels, umbrellas - seemed to glide past, not raising their gazes from the pavement as they mechanically moved to some destination known only by them. _If any of these people died tomorrow, I would never know, and neither would those walking beside them._ He sipped his tea and licked his lips, pleased by the warmth of it. Absently, he grabbed a packet of white sugar and poured it in. _We're just ghosts to others. Ghosts of today, tomorrow, yesterday; we don't mean a thing. And yet, if we wanted to, we could have such a massive effect on anyone's lives..._

He was torn out of his pessimistic musings as a chair across from him screeched as it was pulled back, and his companion dropped into it, offering a grin as Arthur glanced at him. "What'cha thinkin' about?" he enquired, stirring at his coffee speedily.

Arthur leaned back, ensuring he wouldn't get any coffee on his clothes. "People," he murmured, glancing outside at the greyscale world.

"Blunt but elusive," the American commented with a sigh, lifting his coffee and taking a swig of it, grimacing at the heat. He huffed as Arthur chuckled. "'S not funny. I burned my tongue."

"Poor baby," Arthur cooed, a false sympathetic tone in his voice. "Want me to kiss it better?"

A predatory glint shone in Alfred's eyes before they flashed and he leaned back, coughing averting his gaze. "I'm good," he said awkwardly, and Arthur tried to pretend that he didn't care.

_Stupid_, he berated himself, sighing into his tea before glowering at it. _It's too weak._

"Hey, Arthur?"

"Hm?" He tried to sound disinterested as well as convince himself he didn't feel at all hopeful whenever Alfred spoke to him or said his name so familiarly.

"So you have a son..."

"We've established that." _Arthur, you fool, he'll like you even less if you keep being so snappy._

"What sorta stuff d'you do with him?" he asked, eyes faraway and yet focused on the Englishman sitting in front of him. He leaned forward, staring into green eyes expectantly.

_That's right... Alfred's father wouldn't have acted much like a father, at least not in terms of nurturing and... _He sipped his tea and then placed it on the table with a small sigh. "It varies a lot," he mumbled, momentarily forgetting his manners and leaning his elbow on the table. "I ask him what he wants to do... Well, only if he deserves a treat of course. I don't do thing for people for nothing," he quickly added, flushing in embarrassment. "And he has such outlandish requests such as going to theme parks or something just as frivolous, and..."

Alfred frowned, impatient. "And?" he prompted him.

"I wish I could..." Arthur mumbled, staring down, shame-faced. "I... Most of my money goes towards rent or food. Or alcohol, admittedly." He sniffed, self-conscious as he recalled his and Alfred's first meeting - one of the many times he had been entirely inebriated. "I do my best for him, but I'm really not a very good father... That's why Tino has him. Well, and Berwald, but it's awkward at the moment, so it's mainly Tino who takes care of him..." He trailed off, realising he was rambling, and stopped himself with a nervous cough.

The American's frown deepened, but now in sympathy. Without thinking, he leaned forwards and brushed Arthur's hair out of his eyes. _Look at me. _"You're not a bad dad, Arthur," he murmured lowly, disappointed when Arthur didn't look up. "Seriously, I believe that you do your best. You feed him and you take him out and you buy him presents. And even though you couldn't take care of him, you gave him to someone who could." He offered a smile as the Brit looked up, a strange fluttering sensation erupting inside of him at the hopeful shine in the other man's eyes. "I think that's pretty responsible. And anyway, you could be a worse dad."

"I know." The Englishman wanted to look away again, but found himself unable to tear his gaze away from Alfred's. "I just... wish I was better."

"Me too... Well, not a better father, obviously, since I don't have kids." He smiled sheepishly and Arthur rolled his eyes at the broken moment. "But I know what you mean... I wanna be better in everything I do. I don't seem like it, but I'm kind of a perfectionist." He was glad that the other man didn't scoff or undermine him at that, so he offered a grateful smile. "Whenever I do something, I think I could've done it better. I could be a better brother and I could do better in college. I could've done a lot of things differently, but... since I can't go back and fix things..."

He felt fingertips ghost over his hand, and he blinked in realisation that his hand was still caressing the other man's cheek. He licked his lips and swallowed, fighting not to flinch back, and felt a reluctant hand cover his. And it didn't feel disgusting or wrong. It felt... nice. It felt like their hands belonged together somehow.

"You go forward," he finished in a whisper, and they gazed at one another until a waitress sidled up beside them and asked if they needed anything else.

**x.**

"Is it _always_ cold here?" Alfred grumbled, hands buried deep in his pocket as they trailed through a park, feet crunching on gravel and breaths visible in the chilling air, as they travelled to Arthur's and Tino's agreed meeting location.

"You've lived here a few years, haven't you?" Arthur rolled his eyes, trying to hide just how cold he himself felt. "Of course it isn't _always _this cold, although you tend to forget it's ever warm when it gets like this..."

"I can see why. Jesus," the younger man murmured, shuddering lightly and praising his jacket for being so warm. But his jean-clad legs felt like ice, so he dreaded when they stopped walking. He'd have to jog on the spot or do _something_ to fuel some warmth. He hated the cold.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Don't be such a child," he reprimanded without any real bite, checking his watch. "Hn... We're probably here a few minutes early." He sighed, holding a gate open for the American as they staggered into a smaller area, and Alfred was fairly certain that Arthur must have picked the meeting area; it was quaint, lined with several tall trees along with numerous bushes that would be filled with roses in warmer seasons. He kicked a few stray pebbles as they walked into the centre of the place, Arthur sitting stiffly on the bench, kept dry by a tree that hung overhead. "You may sit down, you know."

He glanced down at the Brit and huffed. "'S too cold," he muttered.

"Suit yourself," Arthur replied, crossing his legs and folding his arms and trying not to shiver perceptibly.

It only took a few conflicted moments for Alfred to debate with himself, sit on the bench, and then slide closer to the Brit. "Just so we'll be warmer," he muttered, hoping the smaller man wouldn't notice their arms brushing together _too _much.

"R-right. Of course."

They both stared in opposite directions at the damp floor, puddles rippling slightly in the soft breeze, and soon enough the silence became infuriating. Subtly, Alfred glanced at the older man, pretending to be looking up at a tree or something (He could always lie and say he thought he saw Superman...), unable to look away when he caught the nervous emerald eyes and flushed cheeks. He swallowed. _It's probably just 'cause of the cold, but... still, it... he just looks kind of cute when he blushes..._

Arthur blinked and turned to him, surprised to find a serious-looking American gazing back. "Alfred...?" he whispered softly, somehow feeling that speaking loudly would ruin the strangely peaceful moment that they had somehow invoked.

"Just... be quiet a second, okay?" Alfred muttered, brows drawing together in a troubled frown. Any other time, Arthur would've berated him for trying to give him such an order, but instead he found himself complying, nervously licking his lips and then absently biting them when blue eyes flickered down to them. He leaned back as the American moved forwards, asking with his eyes _do you know what you're doing do you really want to do this_, but large, reassuring hands grasped his arms, and Arthur found his eyes closing as Alfred's breath ghosted over his lips.

"Ah... Am I interrupting something?"

And the strangely fantasmic moment suddenly dissolved, and their eyes shot over to the source of the voice, both of them pulling apart swiftly as another man offered a shy smile.

"N-not at all, Tino," Arthur stammered nervously, flushing deeply and casting Alfred an apologetic glance. He felt disheartened and slightly hurt, but he couldn't blame the other man really. _Stiff upper lip_, he reminded himself. "Thank you for bringing him here," he said gratefully, standing to approach them. He raised his eyebrows at Peter, who stuck his tongue out back. "And it's nice to see you again, brat." He ruffled his hair, much to the kid's irritation.

"Jerk!" he said huffily, batting at Arthur's hands. "Don't treat me like a kid!"

"Tsk." Arthur stood to his full height, folding his arms and sniffing haughtily. "Once you can prove yourself to be an adult, I'll acknowledge it then."

Tino chuckled at their rehearsed behaviour and offered the Brit a smile. "Then, I'll meet you here again later." He waved at Peter as he departed. "Goodbye for now, Peter. Go easy on Arthur."

"No way!" Peter waved back at his guardian left, and then turned to Arthur. "I didn't miss you at all, old man." He pulled a face and Arthur scoffed.

"Well, I feel the same way." He sniffed and then smiled at Peter. "It's been a while though."

The younger boy smiled back. "I guess so. Not that I was counting." His gaze drifted from Arthur to the man seated on the bench, and he leapt in front of the Brit protectively, holding up his fists and glaring. "Who the heck are you? If you want to claim Arthur, you've gotta fight me for him!"

Amusement and annoyanced shone in blue eyes and Alfred stood, sauntering over to the kid and leaning down, smirking at him. "Try me, kid."

"Alfred," Arthur reprimanded sharply, scowling and blushing at the same time. He pulled Peter back by the shoulders. "Don't pick fights."

"Especially with someone who'll kick your ar-"

"Peter, don't use that word."

"You've used worse!"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Alfred, this is Peter. Regrettably, my annoying son with a god complex and an ego almost the size of yours." He smiled sweetly and Alfred blanched. "Peter, this is Alfred. He's my..."

They looked at one another, Arthur faltering and Alfred wondering what he'd say. (He wouldn't help him out after that remark...)

"Lover?" Peter offered, much to their chagrin.

"N-no, Peter, he isn't my... He isn't my lover." Arthur coughed, blushing darkly.

"But you want him to be, right?" He looked up, sniggering at his father's red face. "You do!"

"_Peter_," Arthur hissed sharply, and then ruffled his hair to the point of it being _almost_ as messy as his. "Shut up."

**x.**

_**Axis Powers Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.**_

**This was going to be much longer, but I had to cut it off suddenly. ;; The next chapter will be longer and it won't take me five years to do. But yeah, it's going to be the next chapter in which it gets intense... No, I don't mean they have sex. But yes, there is a lot of drama in the next chapter, which, if you're lucky and I don't have a lot of work and don't procrastinate, won't take me so long. But seriously, I won't go on a hiatus like that again if I can help it... ;; I'm very sorry... -**_**waits to be fryingpan'd!-**_

**Anyway, enjoy this little segment prior to teh dramaz next time. Take care, guys. Hope you're all doing well and haven't died of boredom waiting for this... but you obviously had a lot more fics to entertain you in the mean time. Speaking of which, I can't stand some of the earlier grammar or characterisation in this story. XD; I've improved since I started it, and so some errors just make me want to grab Russia's pipe and break some people. Or myself for making those mistakes.**

**I wrote the beginning of this chapter ages ago and the latter part very recently, but I tried to keep the style fairly analogous so it isn't confusing. But if it sounds different at all in the next chapters, it's because my style of writing **_**has**_** changed, so just be aware of that. The sequel, if I do write it, will hopefully be a lot more promising with less errors. However, this story has been fairly successful and I am so glad you've enjoyed it despite my personal criticisms of it. Thus, whilst this story is now not one I find particularly boast-worthy, I am glad I wrote it; a lot of people have been interested in it and I'm so glad and thankful. I started it for fun and my friend made a Greece/Japan story when I began this, so it was really just a little activity we wanted to do together... but I received such a magnificent response. Whilst I know this is far from my best story, it's one I'm determined to see through to the end, thanks to all of you.**

I've started other US/UK/US chapter-fics too, however, and you can check them out on my profile. _**Ab Imo Pectore**_** is one I'm hoping will interest people as much as this because my writing has improved. **_**AIP **_**basically entails Arthur moving to the US and taking a job as a Literature teacher at Alfred's school. He meets a man and develops a relationship with him only to later discover that he's in an abusive relationship. Alfred begins to notice Arthur coming to school with injuries... and it goes from there! I hope to pursue a few more chapter fics in the future, but I've now decided I'll tackle one at a time from now on, especially with how I forced you to wait for this. XD;**

**Thanks again. Take care, everyone.**


	31. Honjitsu wo misete!

"Have you eaten yet?"

Cobalt blue eyes rose from mottled grass and trampled flowers to meet inquisitive emerald ones. "I had breakfast," he said, "but I'm still hungry. Tino's food is way better than yours, but he doesn't make a lot."

Arthur twitched in irritation, huffing and folding his arms. "Really, you are so ungrateful." Shaking his head, he turned to Alfred. "I don't suppose you'd like to join us?" he offered before realising, and then blushed slightly. "N-not that I'm asking you to. I just... Since our appointment... You might want..."

"I'd love to," the American cut in, flashing a strangely debonair smile that somehow fit. Arthur stared for a moment, unable to look away, until Alfred chuckled softly. "What? Is there something on my face?"

Flushing deeper, the Brit finally removed his gaze from the taller man's face and shook his head, frowning. "Not at all." Seemingly unable to find a suitable excuse, he instead cleared his throat. "Let's go then."

"Where to?" Peter asked, jogging to match his father's stride and pouting when the man slowed down for him. _One day, I'll be taller than you and you'll be running to keep up with me! _"Restaurants are boring."

"And too expensive," Arthur mumbled under his breath, but the boy hadn't heard him, thankfully. "As long as it's nothing too greasy..." he began, grimacing, but Alfred soon ruined his plan.

"How about McDonald's?" he proposed, humming thoughtfully and looking annoyingly serious. Unfortunately, since he shared his love for horrible cuisine with Peter, the younger boy nodded emphatically.

"Yeah, yeah! C'mon, Arthur! Let's go to McDonald's!" he agreed insistently

"I feel like both of your father's."

"Don't be silly! You'd be a mum for sure."

"Peter, once again: shut up."

x.

"I'll order for you guys, so just wait here." Alfred flashed them a victorious grin before he strolled over to the cashier, slightly bewildered by the lack of queues.

"So, who is he?" Peter asked, gaze flickering between Alfred's jacket-clad back and his father's mesmerised green eyes.

"I told you," Arthur murmured distractedly, lacing his fingers together. "He's Alfred. He's... one of my clients." He paused, frowning slightly. "He could be considered my friend, I suppose..."

Eyebrows identical to his own rose and Peter made a suspicious sound. "Do friends kiss each other like you were?" he asked curiously, although he already knew the answer. It was just so fun teasing Arthur. He wasn't like a father at all, really. More like an older brother. With no taste.

Cheeks flaring brightly, Arthur's eyes snapped back over to Peter. "We didn't kiss," he hissed lowly in fear of someone overhearing. It's not that he cared if strangers heard really (Well, maybe a bit; they had no business listening.), but if Alfred heard... _He almost kissed me... but why? He's really good at giving mixed signals. _He sighed dejectedly, staring out the window with a forlorn frown. _Again, that's not really his fault... I just wonder if he'll ever overcome his father's ingrained prejudices completely..._ He swallowed, not really wanting to contemplate it. Whilst, as a therapist, he could reluctantly agree that it was possible, as a person and... friend... of Alfred's, he just feared how their relationship would turn out.

"You nearly did. And you wanted to. And he wanted to."

He turned back to Peter, scowling in irritation, but curious despite himself. "You think he wanted to..." He glanced to the side, blushing, and then back, "kiss me?"

Peter stared blankly at him. "I thought so... It's probably glaringly obvious to anyone but you guys."

Preventing Arthur from retorting, Alfred appeared, dropping a full tray onto the table before sidling in across from Arthur. "Tuck in, guys," he said, beaming, and the silence wasn't so much awkward as it was stifling.

_I wish I could be honest. _Arthur sighed softly as Alfred and Peter bickered over something he didn't pay attention to, not knowing that the American's thought were comparable to his own.

x.

The group's banter continued for a long while until a woman requested (or demanded, in Alfred's perspective) that they cease the incessant noise because she was getting a headache. Arthur, already ticked off because of his own pessimistic thoughts, began to icily return the comment and throw in a few sarcastic insults, but Alfred slid his hand over the Brit's mouth and sent her a disarming smile. "I apologise, ma'am," he drawled, leaning on his friend's head and patting his shoulder. "It's his time of the month, y'see."

The woman, horrified and disconcerted, just sputtered a nonsensical response before swiftly leaving the area. Peter was laughing obnoxiously, bent over and gasping for air as Arthur shouted louder than before and tried to hit the American, who easily caught his wrists and grinned.

They wandered into an arcade, full of loud noises that grated on Arthur's nerves. He watched, feigning interest, as Peter and the overgrown child engaged in combat on some kind of crime-related game. There was a tug on his trenchcoat, and he glanced down to see a tearful girl look up at him. Kneeling down, he offered her a smile.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? Are you lost?" he asked. She nodded, a choked sob getting stuck in her throat, and he rubbed her back soothingly. "Shh, it's all right. Come on, I'll help you find your family." He took her hand and scanned the arcade. "Who were you with?" he asked gently, turning to look at her again.

She sniffled, and he withdrew a tissue from his pocket to dab at the tears on her cheeks. "M-my brother," she mumbled. "He has blond hair and he's wearing a red shirt that says something I don't understand on it." He sniffed again, blinking away more tears in an attempt to be brave.

"It'll be okay." He smiled at her again, squeezing her hand as he stood back up, bestowing a quick glance to see Alfred and Peter fixated on their game. "We'll find him."

He dearly hoped that the girl's brother would still be in the arcade. It would be terribly scary for her to have to go to the police station... Nonetheless, he had to ensure that she found her brother somehow. So he went around (slowly, making sure the girl wasn't stumbling in an attempt to keep up), tapping kids on the shoulders and asking if they'd lost someone. A few people flipped him off and, were he not with a child, he would've showed them a middle finger and a fist in response.

There was a tall, lanky boy in a too-big crimson shirt pacing in a corner, on his phone and babbling nervously into it. He glanced down at the little girl and gently tugged her along. "Come on, I think we've found him." He smiled reassuringly at her and she returned it, hopeful. "Excuse me?" he said loudly, and the anxious boy swerved around, cowering under Arthur's imposing stare.

"S-sorry, sir, I'm a bit busy. I-"

"Yes, yes, I understand that, but I believe I found your sister." He glanced down at the little girl who was nervously clutching at his hand whilst hiding behind his leg. "Come on, sweetie. Is this your brother?"

She peeked out from behind Arthur's leg and stared at the boy for a while before nodding shyly. "Big brother," she mumbled shakily, and the boy, just as unnerved, gave a smile that somehow looked both terribly relieved and fearful at the same time. He held out a hand, and the girl hesitantly took it, glancing worriedly back at Arthur before staring at the floor. "Thank you," she whispered to him, and the Brit frowned. Why wasn't she happy...?

The boy grasped her hand, looking very much like he didn't want to, and smiled weakly at Arthur. "Yes, thank you for finding her. Um... I-I've got to go now. Thank you," he stammered, fingering his phone and sparing it a sickened looking glance before smiling again. "Ah... Thank you. Goodbye." With that, he staggered out of the arcade, half stumbling as he dragged the girl along.

Arthur was fairly suspicious and he was prepared to go after them, but was distracted by a hand on his shoulder. _Violet eyes-_ He lurched out of the hold violently, but relaxed when Alfred stared back, nonplussed. "Ah, sorry... You surprised me," he explained, sniffing haughtily.

Raising an eyebrow, the American shrugged. "If you say so," he mumbled. "Anyway, Peter and I are done."

"I beat him twice!" Peter put in, grinning wolfishly before groaning when Alfred flicked his nose.

"Yeah, but I let you win those two times 'cause you threatened to tell _mommy_." He snickered and Peter pouted, blushing slightly.

"When you're done bickering," Arthur drawled, casting them an unimpressed look (although they both knew he was just hiding his amusement.), "then we can get out of here. This place is giving me a headache..."

x.

"H-hello, I-Ivan?"

"Ah, Raivis. What a pleasant surprise. I was a bit busy and you interrupted me..."

"I-I-I'm sorry. I j-just thought that..."

"Do not waste time, Raivis..."

"S-s-sorry. I-I just saw him."

"Who was he with?"

"I d-don't know. H-his son, I think. I-I think he was with another man."

"Oh? How interesting..."

x.

"I'm surprised Arthur trusts me with his kid."

Peter looked up, taking his eyes off of the shark that swam past the window, and blinked at Alfred. "Really? How come?"

Alfred didn't look away from Arthur, who was gazing into another tank, obviously not taking in what he was seeing. Why had he looked so thoughtful today? "Aren't you?" he murmured questioningly. "I mean, he doesn't know me that well, and he seems pretty protective of you..."

Peter regarded the American for a moment before turning back to the fish. "He only leaves me with people he trusts." _It's not like I want to make him feel better, but Arthur likes him, so he can't be all bad..._

Surprised, Alfred turned to the boy. "What? Trusts...?" _Arthur trusts me?_

"He refused to give me to Tino and Berwald until he was sure they'd look after me." He smiled slightly at the memories. "He even threatened Berwald... Almost got into a fight, but Tino broke it up. Arthur was saying how he wouldn't leave me in the hands of those he doesn't trust. He wouldn't allow anyone to do anything to hurt me." He laughed quietly, recalling the fiery green eyes as the man had stood up to the intimidating Swedish man. "But Arthur's so weird. He never tells people what he means to their faces. Even though I overheard it, Arthur wouldn't admit that he wanted to protect me." He turned to Alfred, rolling his eyes when the man just frowned in confusion. "Are you that stupid? Dumb American, I'm saying that Arthur has a hard time being honest. He's withdrawn and he won't tell someone his feeilngs unless he's sure that they feel the same. So, if you like him, you might as well tell him, 'cause he'll just beat around the bush and say things like, '_I'm not doing this for you_', or something."

Alfred stared at him for a moment, eyes wide, before a soft smile slipped onto his face. He chuckled and ruffled Peter's hair, ignoring the protests. "You know, for a kid, you're pretty insightful."

"What d'you mean 'for a kid'? Jerk!"

_But what he said... Is it true? Would Arthur be too afraid to admit his feelings to me? _He paused again, scowling into the blue depths of water. _Feelings? What am I thinking of...? We... What are we anyway? Earlier, I felt strange again... I always do when I'm close to him. And for a moment, I thought I was going to... do something I'd never done before. And in that moment, I didn't mind. _He sighed, frustrated, and his head collided with the glass. He ignored Peter's jibe about brain cells and his lack of them. _Is it so repulsive that I want him to look only at me? If he was a woman, would it be any different?_

"Shall we move on now?"

He looked up to see inviting but still pensive green eyes gazing at him, hand outstretched, and he took it with a grateful smile, their hands remaining intertwined for a bit longer than necessary.

_It doesn't matter though, does it? Because he isn't a woman. And... what we have, even if some people think it is wrong, it doesn't feel it. Although he's someone my father would have disapproved of, it's fine, isn't it? He isn't here anymore; he can't dictate my life. _Arthur tilted his head, concern etched into his features. He managed a small smile despite his thoughts, and made sure to walk closely beside Arthur as they made their way into the next exhibit. _There's no fate and no father to tell me what I can and can't do. Just because Arthur's a man like me doesn't mean that his eyes aren't beautiful or his voice isn't nice to listen to or that our bodies can't fit. Maybe we aren't yin and yang in terms of gender, but it's not important, is it? What's important is..._

"Alfred, are you all right? If you're too warm, you can take off your jacket. I'll hold it for you. But only because I don't want you complaining."

"But the truth is, you just want my jacket because you like it, right?"

"Don't be absurd! Idiot!"

"Hey, it's okay if you don't want to admit it! You can have it anyway, seeing as I'm so chivalrous."

_The only thing that's important is love._

x.

"A man with blue eyes... Yes, I have seen Kirkland with someone who fits your description before. On the plane."

"What is their relationship?"

"I do not know, brother. They appeared to be lovers. I can find out for you."

"Please do, sister. It would be most helpful."

"Of course, brother."

x.

"Hold on a moment."

Alfred and Peter paused in their debate about which power ranger was the best, turning to Arthur questioningly.

"Considering our next stop, I have to buy some flowers." He rifled through his pocket to grab his wallet.

"White and pink carnations," Peter mumbled, staring at his feet. "As always."

Arthur nodded, mumbling, "Excuse me," and approached the vendor with a polite smile.

"Next stop?" Alfred asked, vaguely wondering the meaning of the carnations.

"My mum's grave," Peter answered tonelessly, face impassive as he watched Arthur purchase the flowers they always got.

Alfred grimaced, inwardly berating himself for his stupidity. "Oh," he mumbled.

"It's fine," the younger one said quickly, beating Alfred to the apology. "It's fine."

_It's not_, Alfred wanted to say. _You're not okay and Arthur certainly isn't. It isn't fine. Nothing is fine. Nothing-_

"I don't remember her at all."

He looked at Peter, frowning, but the kid just remained stoic.

"I always visit her with Arthur though. He can't do it on his own, even if he says he can. Because, even though he's really bad with his feelings, when he's alone he really can't handle it. He always gets drunk when he's alone. Berwald said he's surprised his liver hasn't complained yet. He's been in hospital after drunken brawls, but other than that he's been okay. Physically." He finally looked at Alfred, the blank mask slipping into a deep melancholy. "He isolates himself but in truth, he's only happy when he's with others. So that's why you're good for him. You're loud and annoying... It's a good thing," he assured the other, grinning when Alfred scowled. "'Cause Arthur's just... He likes people who aren't like him. Well... he doesn't actually normally like those who are like you, but I guess you're an exception." His grin softened, but retained an impish edge. "Or you're just different to everyone else."

Before he could ask him about that, Arthur appeared, clutching a boquet full of a variety of flowers, and they were on their way, all stuck in their own worlds, conversation dull due to thoughts.

Honestly, Alfred was fairly surprised that Arthur hadn't told him to go home at that point. He knew that the Brit was a private man, so taking Alfred to his ex-girlfriend's grave was astonishing. As well as slightly creepy, but still. Somewhat touching somehow.

_"Are you that stupid? Dumb American, I'm saying that Arthur has a hard time being honest. He's withdrawn and he won't tell someone his feeilngs unless he's sure that they feel the same."_

He pursed his lips and risked a glance at the older man, not surprised to see his gaze staring out at nothing, half-lidded. The lights were on but nobody was home was what came to mind as he peered into the green depths, hoping that nobody would notice him staring. His insatiable craving to know what Arthur was thinking was just increasing, and he surpressed the urge to groan in frustration or take him by the shoulders and _demand_ he tell him. But he refrained from doing so, privately proud of his self-control.

He couldn't really blame Arthur for being so distracted. They _were_ on their way to Elizabeth's grave and from what he'd seen, Arthur cared for her very much. For some reason, the notion made him feel vaguely annoyed. What right did a woman who had passed away have to still hold Arthur's heart? It just... It wasn't fair.

_Maybe it's that Arthur can't get over her. But why? Is it so hard to let go of someone?_

He stared at Arthur a moment longer, far away emerald eyes staring blankly as they silently walked to their destination, and he sighed.

_Yeah, it is._

x.

A harsh breeze blew past, raindrops that were clinging to the trees after the previous storm falling. The cold felt like daggers, and the three huddled in their jackets, walking close together to share as much warmth as possible.

"I can't wait 'til summer," Alfred mumbled, shuddering.

They climbed the slanted slope, Alfred avoiding people's gazes and trying not to look at the numerous graves. He hated graveyards, both because they were somewhat scary and because it just felt... wrong. It was horrible to know that people rotted away beneath their feet and he didn't want to imagine himself decaying under the ground. Shivering for a different reason, he brushed up closer to Arthur, who thankfully didn't seem to notice.

"There she is," the Englishman breathed after a brisk walk through the uncut grass. He trailed over to Elizabeth's grave, Peter and Alfred lingering behind him. "Hello, Elizabeth." He sunk to his knees, staring down at the stone and not moving for a sombre moment, the other two watching with mixed emotions. Finally, he moved, brushing away the dead flowers and tossing away stray cans that littered the surrounding area, brows drawing together at the rubbish loitering around. Nonetheless, he stood his and Peter's flowers over the grave, placing them down delicately and offering a soft smile. "I hope you like our flowers. It's been a while, hasn't it? I'm sorry."

Alfred forced himself to look away, feeling like he was intruding. But Peter nudged him, hissing something he couldn't hear, and he ruefully turned back to watch the moment that he was sure should remain private.

"I... I met someone. I mean, someone who's... He's my friend." Alfred's lips twitched upwards despite himself, feeling oddly touched at that. And Arthur sounded so shy but so proud when he said it. It was... sweet. "His name is Alfred. Alfred Jones. He's nothing like you at all, but I still find myself... Well. You know." _Damn it_, Alfred despaired. _Finish your sentence for me! _"He's noisy and egoitisical and so bloody _American_. But it's... it's nice. Somehow. A little bit." _Say what you mean, Arthur... _"Because he's also... well, I think he can live up to what he says. He's one for justice and heroics, and I can really see him upholding that, even if he's childish sometimes. Why? It's... well, it's just because he's Alfred. You'd understand if you were here. Maybe." He paused, ducking his head. "I miss you dearly, as you know, but... you'll have to forgive me. When he's around, I..."

Softening, Alfred moved forwards and kneeled beside the Brit, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Arthur glanced at him as if he'd forgotten he was there, and the American smiled. "You don't have to worry, Elizabeth," he said, not taking his eyes off of Arthur. "I'll definitely take care of Arthur for you."

Peter watched with a smile before shaking his head. _They obviously want to kiss._

x.

"Sucked meeting you, Jones." Peter stuck out his tongue, wincing when Arthur whacked his head. "Fiiine, I guess you aren't that bad." He held out his hand, sticking his nose up in a move that was reminiscent of Arthur. "Maybe we'll see each other again someday, and by then I hope you and Arthur would have-"

"Peter."

"Arthur, you tell me it's rude to interrupt people." He grinned at his glaring relative, sniggering when the man scoffed.

Raising his brows and smiling slightly, Alfred let out a small chuckle. Taking Peter's hand and shaking it emphatically, smirking at the boy stumbling forwards at his strong hold, he replied: "You're an okay guy too, Peter. Maybe next time we meet, you'll actually be able to beat me."

"I did!"

"Only 'cause I let you."

"I'll show you! You'll have to recognise me then!"

Alfred laughed and ruffled his hair before turning to Arthur, his own smile softening when he saw the Brit's warm smile. Arthur flushed and forced himself to scowl when he realised Alfred was looking at him. "It... I must confess, it was nice having you accompany us today, Alfred."

The American's smiled widened slightly at that. "Yeah, it was fun." He clapped Arthur on the shoulder, momentarily revelling in the warmth and electrifying buzz he felt at the contact. "I'll see you again soon, Arthur."

"Soon... Yes, soon. Yes. Well..." Arthur looked up at him, biting his lip and battling with himself, and then nodded again. "Yes, soon. Goodbye, Alfred. I..." He trailed off, frowning deeply, and then glaring determinedly at the American, who blinked at him. Quickly, before it even registered, Arthur had hugged him, arms wrapped around his shoulders and face buried into his shoulder, his soft blond hair tickling Alfred's neck. Shocked and confused and pleased, Alfred surpressed the urge to push him away, and instead lightly placed his hand on Arthur's back, smiling slightly. They stayed like that for a moment before Arthur slowly moved back, disentangling himself from the American and blushing darkly. "Goodbye, Alfred," he repeated, staring down in embarrassment.

"Bye, Arthur," he murmured softly, sounding a bit too starstruck and a bit too elated. He clenched his fists, bit his lip, and then relaxed again, smiling. "Take care."

_In that moment, I felt... happy._

x.

"What have you found?"

"A substancial amount."

"Are they colleagues? I am not aware of any other employees at that company..."

"No. It says that he attends college."

"How did they meet?"

"I have not found that out. I do not know their relationship. But Jones is one of Kirkland's clients."

"Then it seems very odd that Raivis saw them together..."

"They were together on the plane too, as I told you before."

"I believe that their relationship is more than it seems. Natalia, bring me my phone. I must phone Ludwig."

x.

With the memory of Arthur's arms wrapped around him, Alfred smiled as he strolled home at a leisurely pace. Whilst Arthur's hug felt different to a woman's, it just felt... right. Even though it was cold, having Arthur so close to him made him so warm...

_Christ, I sound so sappy_, he thought, shaking his head as he fumbled for his key, prepared to announce his arrival, but pausing when he heard Matthew's voice.

"I miss you too... Mm, maybe we can see each other then. Ah! D-don't be so crude! ...Yes, I... I can't say it back right now. I'm still... Y-yeah, I'm glad you understand. ...Bye, Francis."

Francis?

Alfred frowned. Why was he talking to Francis? Then, they did seem quite close before...

"Hey, Alfred."

He looked up to see a nervous-looking Matthew smiling at him. "Hey, Matt," he replied, removing his coat. "How've you been?"

"Fine," he said quickly, shrugging. "How was your day?"

"Yeah, it was all right... Well, pretty good, actually." He tossed his jacket on the couch and followed his brother into the kitchen, requesting coffee and sitting on the counter.

"The therapy session went well?"

"I think so," he replied, leaning back and staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. "We just... We just talked. It was... nice." He looked at his brother, relieved to see an approving smile on his face.

"I'm glad. That's great." He turned back to the coffee, pouring it into two mugs. "You were out for a while though."

"Yeah," he agreed, murmuring a word of thanks as he took his mug from his brother. He sipped it before continuing, "We went out afterwards. Not on a date or anything. He picked up his son and we just went... out. Sort of." He scrunched his face up, contemplative. It sounded like a date, didn't it? "We ate, went to an arcade - and there was a weird shaking guy there who lost his sister. Arthur's really good with kids. It's kind of cute. But anyway, we went to the aquarium too. Oh! Check it out," he said, withdrawing a little whale keychain from his pocket and grinning. "Awesome, right?"

Matthew snickered. "It's adorable," he agreed, smirking at his brother's pout.

"Anyway, then we..." He paused. Would it matter if he told Matthew that they went to see Elizabeth? Arthur wouldn't mind someone being told, would he?

"Then you...? If it's something incriminating, please refrain from giving me the details."

"It's nothing like that!" Alfred insisted, almost spitting out his coffee. He coughed and scowled. "Arthur... took me to his ex-girlfriend's grave," he murmured softly, staring into his drink with a solemn expression. "I was surprised he trusted me enough..."

There was a moment of silence, and then his brother said, "I think Arthur really cares about you, Alfred." He smiled when the American looked at him. "He's such a reclusive person... so I think you're someone that he must really like, eh?" He chuckled, sipping at his coffee and murmuring something about needing syrup. "Anyway, I've got to call someone. Enjoy your coffee."

"Yeah... Thanks, Matt..."

_Why is everyone making me think?_

x.

"I wrote a poem once."

"Did you?"

"Yeah, but it was just a one time thing. And for obvious reasons. It's crap."

"You're your own most harsh critic."

"Tsk, maybe. But it is pretty shit."

"Would you care to show me?"

"You seem like a harsher critic than me though."

"Mm, so you know I'll be honest."

"I think I'm scared of your honesty."

"It's hard to face the truth."

"...I might show you. Some day."

x.

"I like heroes."

"Somehow, I think I knew that."

"Aren't you a therapist? You're meant to listen, not make sarcastic remarks."

"I'm special."

"I figured."

"Was that sarcasm, Mr. Jones?"

"I guess you're rubbing off on me."

"It seems so. So, what types of heroes do you like?"

"Types?"

"There isn't only one type of hero. _I'm going to save the world and be perfect and sparkle_."

"Superman doesn't sparkle."

"Might as well."

"You don't like Superman?"

"Not much. He's too perfect. I dislike perfection because it isn't possible. Besides, I'd feel inferior if I was with someone who was perfect. I want someone with countless flaws because that gives you more to relate to."

"I never thought of it that way."

"I question how much you do think."

"That's mean."

x.

"What's your favourite colour?"

"Mm... I'm not sure. I rather like green..."

"Like your eyes."

"..."

"You're blushing!"

"I'm not. Shut up. And blue is lovely. I adore blue. Like the sea..."

"My eyes are blue."

"Alfred, do be quiet."

"I like green and blue too."

"..."

"You're blushing again."

x.

"Arthur, I think... I'm an okay person."

"Go on?"

"I was thinking about it. Since you asked me what I think of myself. And... I'm not too bad, I guess. I mean, I know I can be arrogant, but I... I'm actually kind of insecure. And I'm insecure about being insecure 'cause I wanna be perfect. But like you said, being perfect... it'd mean people couldn't relate to me. And you need to relate to a hero, right?"

"Right."

"I want... I want to like myself. I wanna live for myself instead of others, 'cause even if a hero wants to save people, he can't do that unless he can save himself."

"That... That's actually a very mature way to see it, Alfred."

"Heh, thanks. I'm not as childish as you thought, huh?"

"Well, you are. But you have your moments."

"Thanks, Arthur."

x.

"Alfred, wake up."

Azure eyes fluttered open and stared tiredly at emerald ones gazing into his own. "Huh...? Arthur, what...?"

"You fell asleep."

He shot up, almost colliding with the Brit. "Aw, shit. I'm sorry. I stayed up late last night researching for school, so-"

"It's all right." Arthur smiled. "It's good for you to take your studies seriously."

Alfred flushed despite himself, grinning back. "Y-yeah... But I'm sorry for making you waste your time like this."

"It's fine, really," Arthur insisted, standing up properly. "We don't have to have a miraculous epiphany in every session." He brushed a stray hair out of Alfred's eyes, and then pulled back, flushing, but Alfred caught his hand. "Ah, sorry. I..."

"It's okay," the American breathed, clutching the smaller man's hand before reluctantly letting go. "Sorry."

They looked at each other before laughing.

"Take care, Alfred." Arthur smiled, walking to the door with Alfred, who grinned back at him.

"You too, Arthur. See you soon."

"Bye..." he mumbled quietly, watching the younger man disappear down the hallway. He heard him bid a boisterous goodbye to Kiku before he left and smiled at his voice. "Idiot," he whispered fondly, jumping in surprise when he heard a cough. He turned, calming when he saw Ludwig there, standing awkwardly. "Oh, hello, Ludwig. How are you?"

"Fine, fine. Just fine." He shifted nervously from foot to foot, and then mumbled something in German before handing papers to Arthur. "Your papers, from a few days ago."

"Oh. Oh, yes. Thank you."

"Don't mention it." He glanced at Arthur, frowning thoughtfully. "Arthur."

"Yes...?" The Brit blinked and raised a brow, bewildered by the man's behaviour.

"If..." He swallowed thickly. "If someone who was very important to you was in danger, what would you do?" He paused again, and then added, "But by helping them, you would have to hurt someone else."

The Englishman held the papers to his chest and leaned back slightly, frowning deeply. "I'd try to help both of them," he said, and at Ludwig's scowl, he added: "I'd refuse to accept that. I wouldn't just let someone else get hurt even if I wanted to save the person I cared for was in trouble. I would find some way to help both of them." He turned away, slightly embarrassed by his outburst. "I got a bit carried away then. I apologise."

"Don't," the German murmured quietly, taking in Arthur's earnest green eyes and flushed cheeks before sighing and running a hand through his oddly unkempt hair. He'd forgotten to brush it back this morning. _I was busy watching Feliciano... I do not see him often enough anymore. _"I am sorry for the abrupt question. Good day, Arthur."

"See you, Ludwig..." Arthur replied, mystified. That had been odd... Nonetheless, he had to get on with work. Putting the papers on his desk, he waited for his next client, thoughts drifting between Ludwig's uncharacteristic question and Alfred's smile.

x.

"Yo, Arthur."

Hanging his coat up, the addressed man glanced to the side. "Hey, Gilbert. I didn't expect you to be home."

The albino shrugged, looking a bit ticked off. "I didn't wanna go drinking alone, and everyone was busy." He sighed in annoyance and flopped down on the sofa, patting the space beside him. The blond took a seat, leaning back and yawning as Gilbert began flicking through channels. "How's Ludwig?" he asked casually, but he didn't remove his eyes from the television.

"Honestly, I'm not sure." Arthur paused, and then decided Gilbert should know. "He asked me a weird question."

"What, did he ask you to marry him?"

"No, to have his children. No, Gilbert." He rolled his eyes and frowned, reiterating the question, and the German raised his brows.

"Where did that come from...?"

"No idea," Arthur murmured, frowning. "He'd been avoiding me and then suddenly approached me with that."

"He's been avoiding me too." Gilbert scowled at the television, not paying any attention to what was on. "It's freaking me out."

Arthur didn't bother telling Gilbert not to worry; he knew it was useless. Besides, he couldn't help but feel suspicious too. But the dark mood was broken by Arthur's phone going off, and an amused German snorted when the blond squeaked in surprise. Blushing and grumbling, Arthur grabbed his phone. "Hello?"

"Hey."

Despite himself, he felt his heart beat speed up. "Hello, Alfred." He scowled as Gilbert made a gagging noise followed by a very provocative gesture, and kicked him in the face with his foot. "How are you?"

"All right, thanks. How've you been?"

"Same, thank you. Is... Is there a reason you're calling?"

"Do I need one?"

Arthur flushed, embarrassed that he felt so happy. "I-I suppose not..."

"I just wanted to know how you were. I dunno. For some reason, I was wor... I don't know. I just felt like I should call."

The Brit's face softened, and he knew he was smiling because Gilbert rolled his eyes and mumbled about lovestruck schoolgirls. "Thank you, Alfred. That... means a lot to me."

"Heh. No problem. Just call me your hero." A pause, talking on the other side of the line. "Matt says hi. But I've gotta go. Work to do." He sighed loudly, and Arthur could picture his pout. "It'd be more fun if you were here."

He should've taken this call in private. Now he was blushing and smiling and Gilbert was laughing at him. "I... Maybe I can visit soon." He paused. "If you want."

"That'd be cool," Alfred breathed. "So, um. Yeah. Take care and stuff, Arthur. See you soon!"

"Bye for now, Al. Fred. Alfred. Bye, Alfred." He hung up quickly, thoroughly embarrassed, and glared at the cackling German.

"You are _so_ gay for him! It's so cute I think I'm gonna gag." He grinned obnoxiously and ruffled Arthur's hair. "I'm happy for you, Art."

"...Thanks."

"God, it's so easy to make you blush."

He was prepared to retort, but was distracted by his phone ringing again.

"Aren't we the popular one?"

Glowering at his friend, he lifted his phone to his ear again. "Hello," he snapped.

"Arthur."

He almost dropped the phone. "Ah, Ludwig... I don't hear from you often..." Gilbert sobered immediately, staring at him expectantly.

"Yes." The German paused for a moment, and then said, "Arthur... that boy, Alfred... your client... How close are you to him?"

Puzzled, Arthur frowned. Why was Ludwig interested in that? "Why do you ask...?"

"Just... It's only because Feliciano wants to know. He's a gossip and won't leave me alone about it. Besides, I can make small talk."

_But why would you call just for that...? _"I... We're... We're friends..." _or something like that._

"Friends... Is that right...?"

"Bruder, they're obviously in love. Can't you see that?" Gilbert threw in, forcing an obnoxious tone into his voice. But Ludwig didn't seem to notice that it was Giblert.

"Is that so? Well, I have to go. Goodbye, Arthur. Gilbert."

Arthur lowered the phone, staring at it in confusion. He bit his lip and then looked at the albino questioningly.

"That," he muttered, "was weird."

x.

"I want to get out of here," Arthur decided, gazing at the wall in boredom.

Alfred blinked. "Eh...?"

The Brit stood. "Let's go out. Outside," he clarified, already at the door.

"Can we?"

"No one can stop us." Arthur smirked.

Alfred grinned. "Your sessions are pretty unorthodox, you know?" he said, walking swiftly with Arthur down the corridor. "D'you act like this with all your clients?"

The Englishman shrugged. "I suppose you bring out my inner delinquent." With another fleeting smirk, he broke into a run.

Sparing a moment to ponder the smirk, the younger man mimmicked it. "Glad to know," he mumbled to himself, and then followed the other, dashing down the hallway, down the stairs, laughing as they ran for no reason. He liked doing things for no reason sometimes. Just being spontaneous and not having a goal to reach. So they slipped outside into the winter weather, running down the street and narrowly dodging other pedestrians. "Where're we going?" he shouted to Arthur, who was a few steps in front of him, sliding past an elderly couple with a grin.

"No idea!" he replied, laughing and then increasing his speed.

Up for the chase to nowhere, Alfred decided he didn't mind this at all.

x.

"Well, what is their relationship?"

"I... don't know."

"Did you not ask him? Ludwig..."

"I did! I did. He claimed they were friends."

"So why is there doubt?"

"My brother... He said that it is more than friendship."

"Oh? This is very interesting! It's becoming more fun. Thank you for your efforts, Ludwig."

"You won't hurt them?"

He hung up.

"Natalia, what did they look like on the plane? How did they... interact?"

"Jones held him after I left."

"Haha... Yes, this is very fun."

x.

"Arthur! Watch out!"

Green eyes flashed back to meet his before glancing forwards, widening. The distance was closed and he collided with another man, both letting out a string of curses. Alfred dashed up to them hastily, hauling Arthur up by the arm before looking at the man, who glared at them.

"Really, be more careful!" he snapped, heaving himself up and batting away the hand Alfred offered him. Mumbling unintelligble insults, he pushed past them, and they watched him go before bursting into crumpling laughter, clutching each other's arms for support.

"That was awesome!" Alfred exclaimed, grinning brilliantly down at a beaming Brit.

"Agreed," he breathed, chest heaving from the effort.

Their breaths were visible in the cold air and they mingled together into one foggy cloud. Their eyes flickered up to meet one another's again, filled with their previous mirth along with something more severe. Arthur licked his lips, and the American's glanced slid down at the action, before flashing back to his eyes. His hands trailed down Arthur's arms until he reached his hands, and they found their fingers threading together almost of their own will. Holding their hands out in front of them, they both stared at their intertwined hands, and then moved forwards at the same time. Their lips brushed together and, a bit awkwardly, their noses, and they chuckled softly.

"Alfred..." Arthur murmured softly, breath ghosting over Alfred's lips.

"Don't ask questions, Arthur... Not yet. Just... let me..." And with that, he closed the miniscule distance between their lips, moulding them together, and it didn't feel wrong or disgusting. It felt right and wonderful and reassuring. He felt Arthur squeeze his hand, and he returned the action as he shyly deepened the kiss. The smaller man's lips parted and he smiled into the kiss, feeling Arthur do the same. It was uncoordinated and new; consuming and imperfect and everything around them seemed to disappear. Alfred had kissed before, but only girls, and with them it was always weird; they pulled him down and slid their tongues in his mouth and it usually ended with him grimacing and pushing them away. Arthur seemed to be well-practiced, although it wasn't really because he'd been with a lot of people. Having been with Francis in the past, he'd learnt his own way of kissing after he'd been teased for being languid and haphazard, and he could _not_ have that.

But it wasn't sickeningly perfect or a Hollywood movie kiss. It wasn't amazing and film-worthy, but it was _theirs_; it was right for them and they just felt everything else melt away because it just suddenly didn't seem to matter. The words that constantly plagued their minds just dissolved and meant nothing. They were words in the past that still hurt and lingered but weren't currently _there_. So they allowed themselves to be consumed in the kiss, full of longing and previously repressed feeling that was now spilling out.

And then they were gasping for breath, clinging to each other and staring at each other, feeling as if they had just emerged from being underwater for a lifetime.

There was a deep flush on Arthur's cheeks, his lips were swollen and his eyes half-lidded and mesmerised. Alfred felt a smile come to his face, and Arthur seemed to snap out of his delirium. Face reddening further, he swallowed.

"Can... Can I ask questions now?"

x.

_**Axis Powers Hetalia **_**belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

**OOPS. I meant for the action to occur in this chapter, but I got a bit carried away with prolonging the UST. So enjoy some UST and some running and kissing and next time you'll have some blood and whatnot.**

**Wait, what?**

**You'll see soon enough! But look - I uploaded two chapters consecutively! Are you proud of me? Does it make up for the **_**lordhowlongwasthathiatus**_**? ...No? You're so difficult to please. Fine, I'll give you chocolate or something. B-but I'm not doing it for you or anything, so don't misunderstand! It's only because I don't need you whining about it, all right?**

**...Forgive me. I've just been reading extremely tsuntsuntsundere stuff recently. Speaking of reading, why are most of the fills on the kink meme on LJ unfinished? Nngh, some updates were last **_**February**_**! It's painful!**

**I'd fill them myself, but I'm still not too sure about the anonymity setting or how it works... I'm an LJ n00b, okay?**

**Well, anyway, yes. So, sorry to disappoint, but le drama will be next time because, as I said, I got carried away with the eye-fucking.**

**...Did I say that? I meant UST.**

**(...But I really do go on a bit too much about eyes. ...**_**EYES LOCK FROM ACROSS THE ROOM-**_**)**

**Arthur, taking your date to a graveyard? Really. Not the most romantic thing. But it was to show that he trusts Alfred and feels safe around him. Plus... it seems like he was asking for Elizabeth's approval, to show her he's moving on. (Finally. He's so stuck in the past. -shot-)  
**

**The shakey guy in the arcade was Raivis, just in case anyone didn't get that. Originally it was just some random guy, but then I thought that I'd have an actual person who was in cahoots with Ivan. So, we have Raivis, as bad an actor as he is. The girl isn't his little sister, obviously. She's just someone they kidnapped... ;; Poor kid...**

**But you've got to admit, Arthur can be a good mum, hm?**

**It's 4am, my America isn't online, and I'm just rambling to myself. I'll read a bit more before going to bed. ;;**

**I used to ramble here thinking that no one read it, but recently people have commented saying they find my author's notes entertaining... Well, I have news for you! They aren't supposed to be amusing! -huffs!- Really, who do you think you are? Don't laugh at me! Or I'll curse you. I can do black magic you know...**

**...I'll curse you later. My cat's trying to get in a box full of my pens. Excuse me.**


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